


Hold Fast

by scarecrow_horses



Series: Changes [2]
Category: Angel: the Series, Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: Alternate Universe, Canon Divergance, F/F, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-29
Updated: 2015-12-16
Packaged: 2018-04-28 19:40:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 35
Words: 220,609
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5103302
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scarecrow_horses/pseuds/scarecrow_horses
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Part two of 'Changes' - An AU of 'Buffy' and 'Angel', starting at about season four.  'Hold Fast' begins directly after 'The Gift' and continues past series end.  There are original characters.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Grave

Xander wished that he couldn't remember everything that had happened. Some stuff stood out, and other stuff was vague, but he _remembered_ , flashes and snapshots that hurt too much to examine closely. 

Getting down off the tower - a nightmare. Spike was barely able to walk. Soaked in Doc's black ichor and his own blood, slipping and staggering and wincing from constant, accidental touches of the rising sun on his skin. Oz stayed in his wolf form and the scent of death was almost overpowering to his senses. Dawn was nearly catatonic and Xander half-carried her down to the ground, her tearing grief like acid in the link, and Spike too weary to even explain.

Off the tower, finally, and Xander's legs ached - his back ached, and he stung all over from numerous glancing blows; from splintered wood and flying chips of concrete. Oz trotted away, nose to the ground, and Spike huddled down into the deep shadow of a pile of bricks and lumber, gathering Dawn close and closing his eyes.

 _*Anya. Help,*_ from Oz, and Xander found Oz standing over the ex-demon who was half-buried in rubble, bleeding from a dozen tiny cuts, unconscious. Oz changed, human and naked and bloody, ruthlessly and silently stripping down a dead body and pulling on jeans and a t-shirt three sizes too big, wrenching the belt tight around his waist. They dug Anya out and carried her to Spike - went out again, searching for the rest.

Tara found _them_ , clambering awkwardly over a haphazard mound of bricks and sheet-iron, her cast half torn off her arm, dust and blood on her face. She beckoned frantically and they went to her - followed her over and around and there was Willow, sobbing, and there was Buffy.... Xander had to take a moment to force his rising gorge back down - to take a hard, hard breath. And then he went to Willow and urged her up - got her to stand and handed her off to Tara, and she and Oz led her gently away.

Xander just looked at...her. At the body. Small, and broken, and nothing, _nothing_ like his friend. Nothing like the blonde whirlwind that had changed his life so dramatically and so completely. Just a shell covered in brick-dust and blood, looking awkward and misshapen; one shoe off, mouth a little open, an obviously broken arm crooked along her side. He gradually became aware of Giles, kneeling to one side and silently weeping. Blood on his cheek and down the sleeve of his jacket. His glasses half-crushed in one hand, his eyes riveted on his Slayer. Xander slowly walked over to him and coaxed him to his feet - held him as he swayed and nearly collapsed. When Xander tried to tug him away, Giles' hand had closed down with bruising force on his shoulder.

"I won't leave her. I'm _not_ leaving her," choked out in a tear-raspy voice.

So Xander stood there, bracing the swaying figure, desperately glad to see Oz's van inch carefully around a corner. Spike inside, and Dawn. Xander and Giles carefully wrapped Buffy in a blanket and lifted her inside. Giles climbed in after and settled at her feet. Tara and Willow were waiting at his truck, crouched in the back with Anya between them, also blanket wrapped. Xander wanted to scream.

The drive to the Summers' house was...surreal. Pink and lemon-gilded clouds, early-morning traffic, school-buses. Xander drove on automatic and stopped with a jolt of surprise behind Oz, staring at the familiar house and not even knowing, for a panicked moment, what the hell he was doing. Then Tara and Willow were standing up, and Anya was awake and they were helping her, and Oz was walking around the back of his van, shoulders slumped and his hair matted to his head. He opened the van doors and after a moment Spike came crawling out. Xander went - in slow-motion, it seemed - to help him. Dawn like a zombie under the blanket with him, in that fucking _dress_ and Xander wanted to rip it to shreds. Giles climbed out stiffly, showing every single year he'd lived on his face, and stood vacant-eyed as Oz and Xander slid the blanket-wrapped body out of the van and got it inside. Xander didn't even spare a thought for what the neighbors would think if they saw.

They lay Buffy gently down in the dining room, stretched over four chairs. The others huddled in the living room; Willow, Dawn and Spike on the couch, Giles in an upright chair near the door. Anya hovered by the stairs, looking dazed, and Tara slipped upstairs. Xander and Oz both just flopped down on the floor, too tired - too _hurt_ \- to do much else.

The link was like an endless knife-stroke going over and over the same raw flesh, and Xander couldn't understand how it was _Dawn_ until Spike finally showed them what had happened up on the tower - relived the fiery absorption of Dawn's blood and the three of them just stared at each other, utterly at a loss.

Tara came back with some left-over sleeping pills of Joyce's and coaxed Willow and Dawn into taking one each. Willow's face was red and wet, her mouth in a rictus of a sob that simply would not end. Anya shook her head at Tara when she offered a pill and went away upstairs herself, and after a moment they heard the shower starting up. The two girls collapsed finally on the tangled pile of blankets that hadn't been moved from the living room floor and the acid-sharp sense of _loss_ went out with Dawn. 

_*Need to clean you up,*_ Xander thought, looking at Spike and the smears of blood on the blanket he'd been using, and Spike nodded wearily and pushed himself to his feet. The link flared and burned, and Xander realized Spike was just too tired to control it.

"There's a first aid ki-kit under the stairs. I'll g-get it," Tara said softly. Xander glanced distractedly at her, letting Spike lean on him a bit. Giles watched them shuffle away and got up from his chair - followed after, looking lost. They went slowly into the kitchen and Spike got up on the counter by the sink, stripping off the rags of his shirt. Xander wet a dishtowel under the faucet and cleaned blood and ichor off Spike's body and then bandaged the deep wounds in his sides and back. Then he went rapidly outside to throw up in the bushes, the combined assault of what was in front of him and what Spike couldn't keep out of the link too much. He came back in and rinsed his mouth - leaned next to Spike, who reached up and stroked his hair, knee nudging into Xander's ribs.

_*Doing all right, love?*_

_*I'm all right. I'm - fine. Oz?*_ The werewolf was hunched in the corner between door and refrigerator, and he looked pleadingly over at Xander and Spike, showing them _*forest,*_ flooding them with his need for a stretch of silence and separateness to let everything...settle.

_*Whatever you need, wolf - we'll be here. Love you.*_

_*Pack. Love you both.*_ Oz wiped his hand over his eyes and opened the door - changed and was gone, streak of russet fur and anguish fading into the morning. Spike just sat and _looked_ at Xander, red-rimmed eyes and haggard face.

_*Love you love you, Xander...should go home, take the Bit and….*_

_*We can't, we can't, love...we have to….*_ "What next?" Xander asked, thinking of when Joyce had died - all the details and phone calls that he simply didn't think he could face right then. That any of them could face. Tara sighed, picking at the remains of her cast and Xander blinked at her - went over and hugged her hard, guilt washing over him. "I'm sorry. You're back and nobody's said anything - are you okay?" he whispered into her hair.

"Fine. I'm f-fine," she whispered back, and wiped her eyes and smiled at him, shaky smile and dirty face, and Xander hugged her one more time. He reached down and split the last bit of plaster holding the cast on and Tara eased it gratefully off her arm. Anya came in then; clean, pale, t-shirt and sweats, band-aids and gauze patches stuck all over her. She stared at all of them for a moment and then got a pot of coffee going - got water boiling on the stove. Xander just watched her, his mind a comforting blank for the moment. 

Anya turned from the coffee pot, frowning. "You're acting like zombies. You have to wake up! We have to - to bury her. We have to get started on all the - the things! Like when Joyce died, there's so many things to do and you're all just sitting here!"

"Anya -" Tara started, but Giles interrupted, his voice so calm and quiet it was nearly inaudible.

"We can't call anyone. If word gets out - if the demon population knows the Slayer is dead.... The Hellmouth is - is too vulnerable. We have to - we have to pretend that Bu- that she is still alive." Dead silence, and then Spike was climbing stiffly down from the counter and crossing to the kitchen island to stand next to Giles.

"He's right. What are you thinking, Watcher?" They all saw the flinch when Spike said that word, and Giles drew a deep breath and looked at the glasses he still held in his hand, as if surprised he'd kept hold of them.

"We need the 'bot. And - somewhere to...bury her...that's private. Safe from - prying eyes." Another silence, while Xander's brain ratcheted up a notch to something like thinking, and Tara hesitantly spoke up.

"There's a place - Breaker's Woods? W-willow and I have gone uh-up there. It's like a little secret spot...." Tara looked anxiously at Giles and he nodded, rubbing his forehead.

"Yes, that would do very - very nicely."

"Do you think the 'bot can really - pull it off?" Xander asked quietly, stepping up next to Spike and Giles sat up a little straighter and put his ruined glasses on the counter.

"She - it - will have to. Willow has been programming it with - a number of - things...." Giles seemed to run out of energy and slumped again, and Tara went quietly over to the stove, getting the pot of boiling water and shakily making three cups of tea. Anya poured coffee into a mug and offered it to Xander, who shook his head. He was pretty sure if he put anything into his stomach right then he'd be sick again.

"We'll need a c-c-coffin," Tara said softly, putting a cup in front of Giles and one in front of Spike, and Spike touched her hand with his, holding it for a moment, and she smiled at him.

"I can...do that. Let me do that, okay?" Xander said, and Giles nodded distractedly.

_*You sure, love?*_

_*Yeah. I am. I can.*_

"Giles? Please - let us do this and y-you go lay down, all right? Just - for a little while." Tara held her hand out, one of Joyce's sleeping pills in her palm, and Giles looked at it for a long, long moment before taking it and putting it into his mouth. He drank a mouthful of tea, grimacing, and then looked up at them.

"I'm - I'm so sorry I - I'm not -"

"It's all right, Giles. We can do this. We'll need you to be...when we...." Xander didn't know how to say _'We'll need you to be strong for when we put your Slayer into the ground,'_ but that's what he meant, and Giles seemed to understand it. Spike did too, and his hand squeezed briefly on Xander's wrist.

"Yes. Yes of course. I'll just...." He stood up, wobbling, and Spike - _Spike_ put out his hand - took the other man's arm and steadied him.

"C'mon, mate," his voice so utterly weary, and Xander could feel Spike's exhaustion in the link - blood loss and the burns and coping with Dawn all having taken their toll.

_*Gotta lay down love - gotta sleep.*_

_*It's all right. I'll - Manny can help me. We can trust him. You rest, love....*_ Spike leaned over and gave him a soft kiss, taste of blood and ashes in his mouth, and then he gently guided Giles into the living room and got him settled on the couch - curled up next to Dawn and _out_ , like flipping a switch.

"What - what can I do? Is there something I can do? I feel all - nervous. Like I might break something or - throw up." Anya was turning her cup of coffee around and around in her hands, and Xander put his own hands gently on hers, stilling the cup.

"I'm going to make a coffin, Anya. I'll be back in a couple of hours. You can -" Xander didn't know exactly _what_ Anya could do, and sighed with relief as Tara moved to her side.

"I helped m-my Gran lay out...some of the family. I know what to d-do. I need you to find something clean for B-buffy to wear, Anya, and some towels and soap so we can make her re-ready. Okay?"

Anya sniffed - wiped at her nose with a crumpled napkin. "Yeah. I can do that. I'll - go do that." She nodded to herself - squeezed Xander's hand and marched away.

Xander put the cup into the sink and then stood there, clutching the sink edge. "You'll really be - okay, doing that?" he asked Tara.

"Oh - yes. We'll get her cleaned up and make her p-pretty for Dawn. We can lay her out in the dining room if you'll h-help me move the table over."

"Okay. We'll do that before I go.... God, Tara...she's really...she's really dead." Xander's voice cracked, and he heaved in one hard breath and then another, his knuckles going white, and Tara put her hand on his shoulder and squeezed tightly.

"I know. I _know_ , Xander. But we h-have to do this. We have to pretend and we have to be ss-strong for Dawn. It's going to be all right. It is."

Xander looked over at her, at blue eyes filmed with tears and he nodded, pushing back the welling grief that was ready to swamp him - put him flat on his face. "Okay. Okay. Let's - go do...what we gotta do." Tara smiled, just a little, and they went into the dining room.

 

Driving back through early-morning Sunnydale to the tower, the bright, busy streets were like a mockery and Xander hadn't realized until he'd caught a glimpse of himself in the rear-view mirror that he looked like a victim of...something. Dirty, bloody, and haggard, he stared at himself for a split second and then looked away, hoping that no police would stop him. He got to the tower, cringing inwardly, and gathered up the 'bot; three heavy pieces of machinery that thankfully looked nothing like Buffy at all. He saw shadows scurrying in the tail of his vision. Scavengers, coming out to pillage the dead - or worse - and some of the crazies stirring. He didn't know if they were better or not, but he dumped the 'bot into the back of his truck and used a payphone to call the police. He told them that people were milling around a dangerously unstable site and some looked like they were hurt and no, he'd rather not leave his name. Then he drove to Manny's house.

The restored Victorian sat at the end of a long, tree-lined drive on the outskirts of Sunnydale, and Xander just sat for a moment when he pulled up to the door, looking a the peaceful slope of lawn and the house that was painted in shades of blue and green and gold. There were several cars parked along the drive - the whole family over for Saturday breakfast. He hated to do this - hated to drag Manny and his family into this. But Manny had tools, and a workshop, and lumber; he could build a coffin here, and know that it would be kept secret. Finally he got out, and went up to the door. Manny's wife answered, a plump and smiling woman whose dancing black eyes went immediately wide and troubled when she saw him.

"Xander! _Credo!_ What has happened?"

"Oh - Rosalina...it's...." Xander couldn't say it - didn't know _what_ to say, and Rosalina drew him inside, towards the kitchen. He could hear laughter - voices - and he clenched his teeth, hating it more by the minute. When he and Rosalina came through the doorway there was - something. A rapid flutter of light and color that made Xander blink for a moment. The palely green, blue, yellow and salmon dapples and stripes that marked over half the family shifted rapidly away, leaving them all in the camouflage of ordinary skin.

 _*Like cuttlefish, that's what Manny said....*_ Xander though inanely, and took a hard breath, trying to calm himself.

Manny put a small granddaughter down and rose from his seat - came over to Xander and put his hand gently on Xander's shoulder. " _Filho_. Come with me." They went through the silence to the back of the house - to the back porch, where the lawn ended abruptly with rocks and the sea, and gulls screamed and chattered, diving along the cliff-face.

"Manny, it's - I'm sorry, but I don't have any other - any other options, I just -" Xander gulped for breath, fought a sob down, his throat so tight he could barely speak. He was hazily aware that Rosalina was in the doorway behind them, silent. Manny just stood there, thin and gnarled as a piece of driftwood, dark as old planking. His shock of snow-white hair lifted and flattened with the breeze and Xander pressed his hands _hard_ into his eyes. Fixed his gaze on the blue _*Spike blue*_ sea, and told Manny quietly, quickly, what had happened - why he had come. Manny listened in silence, and when Xander finally stopped he put his arm around Xander's shoulders and hugged him for a moment.

" _Filho da puta_.... That's bad, Xander. Of course, we can make what you need. You come with me. Everyone else is - all right? Your family?"

"We're - as good as we're gonna get, Manny. Thanks for this."

"Of course, _filho_. Of course. I'm glad you came to me."

They went across the lawn a little way to Manny's workshop, and he hauled out planks of creamy-gold pine and dark red cedar, and they began. The sharp, clean scent of the cut wood, the soft fur of sawdust and the gradual warming of strained muscles lulled Xander a bit, muffling the sharp edges of memory so that for a little while he was only his hands, his back, his eyes, turning possibility into solid reality. Manny had a box full of wooden pegs and they fitted the coffin together with that. He found a paper bag of old horse-shoe nails and put them in Xander's hand, and Xander looked at them blankly for a moment and then tucked them into this jeans-pocket, nodding.

 _*For closing the coffin. God...Spike?*_ But Spike was too deeply asleep to hear him, and Xander went back to work sanding the lid, smoothing the rough spots and rubbing out the hard edges, watching Manny's hands do the same. Thin, big-knuckled hands with the words _'Hold Fast'_ tattooed across them - legacy of Manny's days at sea, years ago. Xander watched those hands move gently over the wood - _hold fast, hold fast_ echoing in his mind, and there were dark spots on the coffin lid. Xander finally gave in and laid his head down and cried, the muffling drape of routine utterly stripped away by that little bag of iron spikes.

The coffin was the color of milky honey, lined with fragrant cedar and smooth as glass and Xander wasn't sure he ever wanted to touch another woodworking tool in his life. He and Manny wrapped it in an old quilt that Rosalina brought, and loaded it into his truck. The whole family stood on the porch, a silent show of support, and Xander just stood for a moment looking at them. Then he nodded, and hugged Rosalina, and climbed into the driver seat.

Manny leaned in the truck window, his eyes grave. "We won't talk about this, _filho_. And if any rumors come our way, we'll be sure to squash them. Take all the time you need, eh? Don't worry about work."

Xander nodded, and scrubbed his hands back through his hair, his mind still numb and working at half-speed. "I think - I'll need to talk to you, in a couple of days. I'll...I'll be around." Manny patted his shoulder and stepped back, and Xander started the truck - backed and turned and gave a small wave, and then he was heading back to the Summers house and starting to think vaguely about a shower and clean _*not bloody*_ clothes. It was just noon.

 

Spike woke already in motion, drawing frantically away from the knife that was slashing towards him. He backed up and was abruptly halted by the couch-arm connecting solidly with his spine and he looked around wildly, trying to find his attacker. After a moment he remembered where he was and slowly relaxed. The bandages on his torso pulled, and he looked down at them for a moment.

 _*Dreaming. But that wasn't my dream.*_ He eased forward and stroked the curtain of hair out of Dawn's face - rubbed her shoulder, whispered to her - and her fretful motions gradually calmed and she sighed into heavier slumber. _*Fuck. That's not good. What the hell gave you **that** idea, Slayer?*_

Spike could just see the edge of the blanket Buffy was wrapped in, and he got up slowly and went towards it. Coming into the dining room he saw Tara on her knees, and Buffy laid out on the floor on what looked like every last sheet the Summers' house possessed. Tara had a pot of water, and a pile of towels, and was carefully washing the filth out of Buffy's hair. The front of Tara's shirt was splashed with pinkish water, and there were smears of brick-dust and dirt on her face. She looked utterly exhausted and glanced up as Spike came in, her eyes swimming.

"Oh! Spike. You startled m-me. I'm just - just trying to f-f-." Tara sputtered to a stop and bit her lip, and Spike knelt down beside her, smelling tears and sweat and the first faint wisps of corruption from Buffy's body.

"Here now, Glinda, it's all right. Everybody run off, then?"

Tara sniffed and wiped her cheek with the back of her hand and shook her head, twisting a stained towel in her lap. "No, they just.... I asked Anya to go to the M-magic Box and get some herbs and things and Xander is get-getting a coffin...." Tara sniffed again, and Spike looked at Buffy. She was naked under the blanket, the clothing Tara had cut off lying in a heap near the kitchen doorway. She was clean, but her broken arm was still crooked, and her legs weren't right. "I'm just no-not strong enough," Tara whispered, and Spike smoothed his hand over her hair.

"That's all right, love. I'll lend a hand and we'll soon have her right." Tara nodded and inched over, moving the pot of water away, and Spike took Buffy's arm in his hands - set it straight with a quick jerk and a muffled _snap_ , and then moved to her legs. They were a little more difficult but he had them straight after a moment, and he tucked the blanket back around the body.

 _*Sorry, Slayer - not very dignified, bein' dead, is it?*_ "Now, let's finish this and get her dressed." Spike moved around Tara and lifted Buffy's head, freeing her hair and making it easier for Tara to finish washing it out. The matted strands finally came clean, glowing mellow gold, and Tara dried and combed them, and then put a clean towel under Buffy's neck, tilting her face up.

"I think I'll let Anya do her makeup. I'm not very good at that."

"Have you picked out a dress, love?" Spike asked, and Tara nodded and stood up stiffly. She unfolded a pale summer dress, something all lavender and salmon and creamy white; a watercolor of a dress, and Spike nodded approval. She'd be pretty, laying down for her final rest, and that would help Dawn and maybe Giles as well. Show them how peaceful she looked, so they could have that small comfort. And it _was_ a comfort. While they got the dress on, Spike let himself think for a moment about Cousin Frieda and her first-born girl. About how _pretty_ seven-year-old Jane had looked, dressed in lace and wearing a flower wreath, laid out on a bed of petals in a snow-white coffin. _'Like a sleeping angel,'_ Frieda had husked, handkerchief pressed to her mouth, and a ten-year-old William had agreed, thinking Cousin Jane the prettiest little girl he had ever seen, and wishing they didn't have to put her away in the ground.

 _*God...Spike.... You all right? Is Tara -?*_ Xander back in the link, somewhere in his truck, and Spike closed his eyes for a brief moment, letting the _*love you love you miss you*_ wash over him.

 _*We're fine, we're -*_ Spike sent brief images - Buffy being tended, Tara's exhaustion. _*Coming back?*_

_*Almost there. Tara needs to rest. Get her to lie down?*_

_*Yeah. Hurry.*_ Spike looked down at Tara's bowed head and he reached and gently pulled the soiled towels from her hands - urged her to her feet.

"Listen now, pet - you go upstairs and get clean, and change out of these things. You'll feel better for it. And then you need to take a rest. Xander's coming back and wolfling will be here soon, and you can let us sit with her for a while, yeah?"

Tara swiped at her nose - took in a long breath and looked down at Buffy. "You know what the worst part is? The worst part is th-that I didn't get to say thank you for helping me - for helping Wha-willow. When I - came back, she was already up o-on the tower. I never said thank you."

Tara shut her eyes, and tears welled from under her lids, and for a moment Spike just stood there, looking at her. Then he folded her into his arms and held her, _*pack*_ so softly from the demon - from Xander, who was somewhere up the street.

Tara shuddered, breathing in gasping pants, and for a moment she simply clung to him. Then she pulled away and rubbed her face. "When did you start being my friend, Spike?" she asked softly, and Spike tucked a lock of hair back for her - wiped a stray tear.

"When you told Xander you were happy for us." Memory flitted across Tara's face, and she smiled then, and Spike felt himself smiling back, the 'real smile' that Xander liked so well - the one he'd only ever had for Dru, for so many years. _*Poor little thing. Barely got herself together and she has to deal with all this.*_

"Go on, Glinda. I'll stay here." Tara nodded and touched his arm, squeezing gently, then she slipped past and wearily climbed the stairs. Spike looked down at Buffy - picked up the blanket and draped it over the chairs, and then carefully picked her up and laid her across them. It wouldn't do for Dawn to wake and see her sister on the floor, on wet and dirty sheets. He arranged her carefully and then tucked the blanket around, leaving her face free. Then he bundled the sheets up and took them to the basement door - tossed them down the steps. He could hear the rhythmic _chuk-shush_ of the washing machine and whirr of the dryer.

 _*No wonder the witchling is so tired - she's been working for all of us.*_ There was a faded zip-up sweatshirt hanging on the back of the basement door and he shrugged it on, feeling chilled. It held the faint scent of Joyce in it still, and he stood for a moment, just breathing. Then he went back to the dining room and leaned against the wall, sliding down until he was on the floor. The sound of the shower coming on was the only sound at all, until he heard the truck, and a moment later Xander was coming in, walking silently around the sprawled figures in the living room and sliding down the wall to sit next to Spike. He smelled, as always, of clean wood and sweat - familiar and comforting. But he also reeked of blood, and for once the demon didn't rise to that. It only wanted family - wanted _pack_ \- wanted safety and quiet and no more upset. Spike hushed it, leaning his head on Xander's shoulder, shifting a little when Xander wormed his arm around behind and hugged him close. Spike could see the coffin in Xander's mind - could see Manny and _*hold fast*_ and he kissed Xander's neck and jaw and cheek - sighed and settled again, letting his eyes drift shut.

"Buffy looks -" _*Dead. She looks dead. They always do and she doesn't look any different than the rest.*_

_*I know, pet. Don't look, then. Just rest a bit.*_

_*Can't. Have to get the coffin in, have to-*_ Spike lifted his head and put his arm across Xander's chest, gripping his bicep and holding him hard.

"No, love. You need to just rest. Nothing to be done that can't wait. She won't mind." Xander just stared at him, his eyes so wide and wounded, and then he nodded and let his head fall back against the wall and they sat there for a while, both of them drifting in and out. The shower cut off and after a bit Tara came down, and folded silently down beside Willow, her breathing evening out in minutes. Silence again, and the thickening air as the sun beat onto the back of the house. Spike listened to Xander's heartbeat, and carefully shielded him from the nightmare images that Dawn was bleeding into the link. An hour or more passed, and then the front door opened and Anya walked in, bags swinging from her hands. She stood for a moment in the foyer and Spike raised his head, looking over at her. Xander stirred next to him - opened his eyes as well, and Anya walked over, her face unusually somber.

"I got what Tara wanted. And I had to walk around for a while before I came back here. Oh. Buffy looks - nice. But she needs makeup. Some blush for sure and some lipstick."

"Sure, Anya. Let's see what you brought." Xander scrubbed his hand over his face and sat forward, his arm still around Spike and Anya knelt down opposite them, opening bags and showing them bundles and jars of herbs; things Tara had wanted for Buffy.

"Is there - did you get a coffin, Xander?"

"Yeah, it's out in my truck. I'll need some help to get it in - it's kind of heavy."

"Oh. Well, I guess we'll have to wait for Oz. I'm going to - to go through Buffy's makeup and see if she has anything suitable for being dead." Anya gathered up the bags and dumped them by the kitchen, then went away upstairs.

Xander sighed - slumped over and twisted around until his head was in Spike's lap. Spike began a slow caress of his hair, gently working out tangles and smoothing the long strands until Xander closed his eyes again. He was trembling ever so slightly, _*hurt*_ in the link like a broken bone, insistent and marrow-deep. Spike leaned down and kissed his temple - petted and petted his hair, willing him to sleep again, to _forget_ , for a little while.

_*Can't forget, Spike. I'm sorry...I can't stop -*_

_*Shhh... No apologies. You're allowed grief, pet. I just want you to rest, is all.*_

_*Feels like I shouldn't.*_

"I know, love. But you can." Xander sighed and burrowed a little deeper, and they had five minutes of merciful blank and then Oz was there, fading into consciousness, _*Pack - all right? Coming....*_

 _*All right,*_ Spike sent, vision of the silent house, and Oz's van and another vehicle stopped outside. After a minute the back door opened and Oz slipped in, and Derio. Then two women. Spike lifted his head, looking towards the doorway, scenting sachet and peppers and meat, scenting flour and fabric softener and age.

_*Wolfling, what is it - who is it?*_

_*Abuela Consolata. Derio's granny. She's...priestess.*_

Spike shook Xander's shoulder. "Love, wolfling is here. He's brought - someone." Xander blinked up at him and then slowly pushed himself upright as the others filed into the room. Oz was clean, bandaged over one eyebrow with a patch of gauze. Derio was behind him, looking a little shaky, carrying his fiddle case. And behind him were the women. The first Spike dismissed - thin and sour looking, iron-streaked black hair bundled into a net and a dowdy dress swathing her. The other -

"Spike, Xander - this is my Aunt Gechina Padovani and my Granny, Consolata Padovani." Auntie looked them over with a critical gimlet eye and then looked away, studying the walls. Granny….

"So this is your family, Dan-iel?" she said, and Spike shivered all over. Xander was getting to his feet, stiff and sleep-dazed, and Spike stood up as well, fighting the demon. The waves of power coming off Consolata were like static, building higher and higher, deafening him. He shook his head fiercely, keeping to his human face with desperate effort, and Xander's hand clenched down hard on his forearm.

_*Spike!*_

Abruptly the power was gone, and Consolata was just - a woman. Silver-white hair held up with sticks, a heavy, slightly bent body in a dull-purple dress and cardigan. Spike growled ever so softly, and she smiled at him.

"Dan-iel told us - about your friend. We'd like to help you." Oz had edged over towards Spike and Xander, looking a little wary, and Spike reached out and touched his shoulder.

_*You all right, wolf?*_

_*Yeah. She's all right. No harm, Spike.*_ Derio looked nervous as well, and he glanced between Spike and his granny, looking like he might want to step between them.

_*Pet?*_

_*We need - something, Spike. I don't mind.*_ "It's - nice to meet the both of you," Xander said, coming forward and offering his hand, and then snatching it back when he saw the blood that still grimed it.

Consolata just smiled at him. "Yes - I've been wanting to meet the both of you. You need to wash, _niño_. Go on, the both of you. You've done what you can for the dead - let us do for the living, yes?"

Xander hesitated and then nodded - turned to Oz. "I - I went out to Manny's house. We made a coffin. It's in the back of my truck."

"Okay," Oz murmured, and Spike edged forward and took Xander's hand.

"Let's go up, pet. Get you clean."

"Yeah." Xander squeezed his hand and they turned away. Spike breathed a sigh of relief as they left the dining room, and he could hear Oz asking Derio to help him get the coffin - Consolata telling Gechina to get some water boiling while she found a chopping board.

_*Guess there'll be food. Hungry, love?*_

_*I - don't actually know. Hard to say.*_

They went slowly upstairs, bringing their pack from the front hall and going into the bathroom. Spike got the shower started while Xander rooted out their toothbrushes and the last of the clean clothes and then helped Spike peel the patches of bandage off. The bleeding had stopped but the wounds were still raw. 

_*Need to hunt,*_ Spike thought, and shook his head no to the brief image of Xander offering his throat. _*No love. Need more than you can give me. I'll be all right.*_ A few minutes later they were slipping gratefully under the hot, pounding spray, soaping and scrubbing and generally trying to shed a layer of skin. When the last of the grime was rinsing away, Xander suddenly turned to Spike and leaned hard into him, locking his arms around Spike's waist. He was crying, shuddering, and Spike held him as tight as he dared.

_*Put her in the ground, don't want to, why did she **do** that, Spike? Spike, why did she - should have done something, should have -*_

_*No, no, **no** , love. No should haves, no whys. No changing what she did and no regrets. You did everything you could. **Everything**. You did good. It's just....*_ "Way of the world, pet. Way things are. There's no blame, love," Spike whispered, wishing he could do something to ease the broken-glass sharpness of the sorrow Xander couldn't keep back.

Xander kissed Spike's shoulder - turned to the spray and held his face under it for a moment, sluicing away tears and wiping his nose. Then he turned back to Spike, blinking the water from his eyes. "You're not actually - sorry - that she's dead," Xander said softly, and Spike leaned back against the tiles behind him.

"Be lyin' if I said I was. She's - the Slayer. Born to die, just like you all are. Only she had less time than most. What she _was_. She fought hard, and she did what she thought was best. She died saving her sister - saving the world. All she wanted, right then, and she died happy. Nothing to mourn, love, and the only pain I feel is yours." Xander's eyes were so dark - so hurt. Spike hated to see that look. But he wouldn't lie - _couldn't_ , really. And he _did_ ache for Xander - for the wolf and for Dawn. He was happy Tara was back to herself, and sorry that she was sad. But that was all. Willow's grief - even the Watcher's - was incidental and counted only where it added to _family_ grief. And Anya's was too oblique to even consider. It wasn't in him to care for not-pack, and he wouldn't even try. But he wouldn't make it worse, either.

 _*Don't mean to hurt you, pet...just can't be any other way.*_ All those things, a fraction of a moment in the link, and Xander nodded slowly.

"I kinda figured." He leaned into Spike again and kissed him, _*Love you, vampire mine,*_ and then he was turning off the cooling water and getting towels, and Spike followed him out. They dried and dressed and spent another moment just kissing softly up against the door.

 _*Giles,*_ from Oz, and they broke apart reluctantly.

Xander smiled at Spike, smoothing his hand over Spike's dark blue button-up. "Guess we'd better go down. You gonna be okay with granny?"

"Long as she doesn't do - anything. Derio must be crazy -"

"Whoa - no. Don't. Oz needs him, and if Oz says it's okay, it is. And Derio is...family. He's family, Spike." Xander said that with a sudden certainty - a sudden surge of agreement in the link, soldier and hyena rousing themselves from whatever stupor the long night and day had put them in. _*Family*_

 _*Pack*_ Spike agreed with that, because Derio was Oz's, and whatever Oz brought in - stayed in. But granny was _not_ , in ways only the demon could truly understand. "Can't explain it, Xander, but she's just - not quite -"

"Yeah. I could feel her, through you. It's a little creepy. But Oz said no harm, and I trust him."

"Course, love." Spike bent and rooted through the dirty clothes on the floor and got his lighter, but the pack of cigarettes was empty and he followed Xander downstairs mentally checking his duster-pockets, wondering if he had any more. _*Need a bloody carton to get through what's coming.*_ Flash from Xander's mind, the old demon's hands, smoothing the wood of the coffin. _*Hold Fast. Hold on to **me** , love. I won't let you go.*_

 

Xander was actually pretty amazed that the smell of cooking food didn't make him sick. Maybe, he reasoned, it was because it was so foreign to him - even being a SoCal boy, he'd never seen most of what Derio's granny and aunt were making. An hour past sunset and Spike was just coming back in, sleek with fresh blood and twitchy as a cat, avoiding granny like the plague. Willow and Dawn were upstairs getting changed and cleaned up, and Giles was just downstairs from his own shower, pushing wet hair impatiently back off his forehead and walking with measured steps into the dining room.

The coffin was balanced on two chairs, and Buffy lay inside, padded with a quilt. Dawn had brought it out, mumbling something about a hope chest and Willow had hugged her tight. Buffy's hair glowed against the cedar wood and the deft strokes of Anya's hand had put color into her face and eased the awful rigor of her features. Tara had put candles everywhere they could safely burn, and the mingled scents of beeswax and peppermint, rue and rosemary, sage and thyme and wormwood seemed to almost swim in the thick, spangled air. Xander stood next to Giles as the older man gazed down, his expression blank and controlled and awful.

 _*She doesn't look so dead anymore,*_ Xander thought, and Spike slipped into the dining room, putting his arms around Xander's waist.

_*Demon-girl did good. Everybody up and about, then?*_

"Yeah. We'll need to - go soon." _*Take Buffy to Breaker's Woods and....*_ Xander shied away from that, even as Spike's thoughts turned again to Cousin Jane, and to a slow walk through London streets. Black horses with plumes on their heads and the silken rustle of his mother's black dress - her hand tight around his and her eyes wide with sorrow and fear.

 _*My father was three years dead, then - she was afraid I'd die too, sickly brat that I was.*_ Xander fled into Spike's memories for a moment, hoping somehow that, if he went through it in his mind first, when the time came he would be able to - have some dignity. Have some comfort for Dawn, and Willow. For Giles, who hadn't stopped looking at Buffy, and who was trembling ever so slightly.

"Giles? You all right?" Xander asked softly, and Giles moved - swallowed with a click of his throat and raised one hand to rub wearily at his eyes.

"Yes I'm - I'm quite all right, Xander, I'm just...a little hung over from that - that pill. It was very strong." Giles' voice was thick with unshed tears but his back was ramrod straight and Spike pulled Xander away ever so slightly when he moved to put his hand on Giles' arm.

_*Stiff British upper lip, love - he might not want...that.*_

_*Can't hurt to try,*_ Xander thought, hating to see Giles so...separate. He lifted his hand again and put it lightly on Giles' shoulder. Giles stiffened and then sagged a little, his head going down, his hands curling uselessly into fists. He didn't move away, and Xander didn't say anything. After a few moments Giles lifted his head.

"Do we know - where we're going? And - how we're getting there?" he asked softly, not looking at Xander or Spike.

"Tara made a sort of map - it's not too hard. We're going to use my truck and - and Joyce's SUV. The van's too low to clear the trail. Spike and Oz are - are going to go up ahead of us about an hour and...and take the shovels." Giles flinched ever so slightly at that, but Spike had assured Xander that 'mere mortals', even a more-than-mortal like himself, would be hours digging a proper grave.

 _*God, and I don't want to think about that, a 'proper grave'....*_ Cousin Jane's funeral was still stark in his mind and his thoughts skittered away from an image of mounded black dirt, a beetle crawling over the tip of William's boot, and the awful, hollow _thud_ as the first clods were shoveled down onto the coffin. _*Throw bunches of roses all over my coffin - roses to deaden the clods as they fall... Now I **get** that. Fuck, don't wanna….*_

_*Love, love...it's all right.*_

Giles turned finally and looked at them, and Spike's arm tightened possessively around him. "Who are - these women? What are they doing?" Giles asked, and he voice was so bewildered Xander couldn't help a small smile.

"Sorry, Giles. They're Derio's granny, Consolata P-padovani? Yeah, Padovani. And his Aunt Gechina. Oz brought them back. They - just want to help." Giles nodded absently, his eyes flickering around the room. Taking in, obviously for the first time, the banks of candles and the strewn herbs - the Double Wedding Ring quilt, the _coffin_ , and Xander watched him reach out and run his hand gently over the smooth flank of pine.

"This is - this is quite beautiful, Xander." Giles gently touched the fold of quilt under Buffy's shoulder. "She told me about this. Her grandmother - Joyce's mother - made this for her when she was a baby. She...." Giles stopped - took a deep breath. "Dawn has one also. Dove in the Window, I think it's called." Giles reached one more time, slowly, towards Buffy. He very gently touched her cheek - stroked down to her chin and cupped it, for just a moment. "Oh _God_...." Giles' eyes were closed, and his hand hovered, trembling, just over Buffy's heart.

_*Spike -*_

_*Let him do - what he has to. There's no shame in it.*_

_*I know, I **know**...it's just....*_ Xander shook his head slightly and felt Spike lean his head on his back, between his shoulder blades.

_*I know you didn't have anything for your friend. When your Jesse died, you couldn't even - tell anyone. This is what grief is, love. It hurts, and it's ugly. And then it's gone, and things are better.*_

_*Really, Spike?*_ A long silence from Spike, as Giles hauled a handkerchief out of his pocket and wiped roughly at his eyes.

 _*Really, love. Look....*_ Images then, of Cousin Frieda and her dashing Scots husband, and the squalling infant they'd named Eliza Jane. The first Jane's picture on the mantel, and the baby held up for inspection, and Cousin Frieda glowing with pride - with joy. _*She didn't forget, and she never stopped missing her. But it was easier, after a while. The hurt just...went away. But the memories stayed.*_

_*But his hurt -*_

_*He'll survive it, Xander.*_ Spike kissed the back of his neck, willing Xander to come into the living room with him - farther away from the granny - but Xander patted the hands locked over his ribs and reached out again instead, touching Giles' shoulder.

"Is there anything we should do, Giles? Since we're not having a - regular funeral, is there anything special we should do?"

Giles shuddered all over - tucked a lock of Buffy's hair aside and then turned to them again. "I - don't know. The Summers' weren't - weren't very religious people. And - there's no need to stand on ceremony with this. We can - do as we please. I rather - rather like this," Giles gestured around them, at the candles and the dim stillness. "Reminds me...."

Giles stopped and Xander made an inquiring sort of noise. The older man looked up at the ceiling, and a faint smile crossed his face. "Oh, years ago. A - a friend of ours died - nothing awful, just.... Anyway, Ethan and I and the rest of us, we had a wake for him, and it was the seventies, you know, so we had candles and incense and...and The Who. We all got very drunk and Ethan managed to nearly drown himself in the Thames doing the Lyke Wake dirge…." Giles blinked, his eyes glittering, and he looked around at Spike and Xander. "I suppose if I'd like anything, I'd like that. The Dirge sung for her. My Great-Uncle Alistair.... He used to sing it at every funeral. Said we had Yorkshire blood and it was only right. It always made me feel...better, somehow. The one - one thing I could count on when everything was…." Giles stopped and rubbed his forehead - looked up at them with a thoughtful expression, and Xander felt Spike move a little behind him, coming around to his side.

"Derio can probably give us the tune, Watcher. You know the words?"

"Well...." Giles looked back at Buffy - looked up at a sudden _clang_ from the kitchen. "I know most of it... I don't suppose you -?"

 _*Fuck.*_ "Yeah, I know it, Watcher. Think I'll go find Derio." Spike kissed Xander's jaw and retreated to the living room, grumbling in the link.

"What's the Lake Walk?"

"Lyke Wake, Xander. It's - it's a very old song, and it says.... Well, actually, what it says is rather morbid and depressing but the _point_ is...it's something you do for respect and for - love."

"Sounds like a good thing then." Giles looked once more at the kitchen doorway and then shook his head and went slowly into the living room. Xander followed, and as Giles settled into a chair in the corner, Xander settled on the couch, draping himself over Spike. Derio was perched next to the vampire, slowly picking out a tune on his fiddle while Spike hummed it for him, occasionally breaking into a word or two of song. Oz was on the floor cross legged, looking exhausted. He'd taken the gauze off his forehead and the wound there was mostly healed; a crusted black line of blood but no swelling, anymore. Tara still slept, and someone had pulled a blanket over her. Anya was in the kitchen, washing pots.  
"Think you have it now?" Spike asked quietly some minutes later, and Derio nodded and played the tune through softly. Giles was nodding, and Oz smiled up at Derio, his hand rubbing absently on a jean-clad knee.

"'Bout time for me and Oz to go," Spike said then, and Oz's face fell a little. _*Oz - love you...don't have to go.*_

Oz frowned, and shook his head. "No, it's all right. Just - want it over," Oz said softly, and Derio leaned down and kissed him.

"Go where?" Dawn, coming into the living room, her hair still damp and her eyes sunk in their sockets, dark circled.

"Have to get flowers, don't we, Bit? What kind do you want, eh?" Xander leaned back as Spike stood up and went to her, and she sniffed and rubbed her eyes.

"Buffy - Buffy really liked those Star-Gazer lilies. Could you get those?"

"Course we could. Anything you like." Spike rubbed her back and she sniffed again - looked around as Willow came into the room and took her arm.

"Let's go sit down, okay, Dawn?"

"I want to see Buffy," Dawn said, frowning, but the link said _*fear*_ and Xander stood up as well.

"Come on, Dawn. We'll both go see her. And Spike and Oz can get the flowers and then we'll be - all set." _*An hour enough?*_

_*Enough. We'll take the van as far as we can up the trail.*_

_*Right. Love you - love you, Oz....*_ Spike and Oz slipped out, Spike shrugging his duster on and Oz getting one last kiss, and Xander got between Dawn and Willow - put an arm around them both.

"Tara and Anya did a really nice job. She looks - just beautiful," Xander said, and _*fear hurt sad*_ , raw and uncontrolled and so damn _strong_ that Xander felt his heart thud into a faster rhythm for a moment. "It's all right, Dawn," Xander whispered, sending _*calm, love you,*_ but Dawn didn't respond. They walked slowly into the dining room, and Willow's arm was tight around Xander's waist, and he could feel her trembling.

"Oh!" Dawn blinked rapidly, looking down, and then she turned to Willow with a small smile on her face. "She - she looks really pretty, doesn't she, Willow? She looks -"

"She looks wonderful, Dawn. Just - wonderful." Willow's voice was hoarse and whispery, and Xander hugged her shoulders.

"Can I - Xander, can I put something in with her?" Dawn asked, and Xander nodded.

"Course you can, Dawn. Anything at all."

"Okay." Dawn slipped away and darted upstairs, and Willow leaned on him, sniffing.

"She _does_ look beautiful. Tara really worked hard. Xander, I - I don't -" Willow ducked her head, shuddering, and Xander gathered her into a gentle hug.

"Shhh.... It's gonna be okay, Willow. It really is. Shhh...." He rubbed her back, rocking her a little, and after a minute she straightened and rubbed her eyes - sniffed hard, making an 'eeew' face.

"Sorry. God. I need a Kleenex. Okay. I'm okay. I will _be_ okay." Willow tried a small smile, and Xander smiled back. They stood for a few moments, just looking at Buffy, just resting against each other, and then Dawn came back, clutching something, and approached the coffin. Xander realized she was holding a small stuffed pig.

"I don't think Buffy would want to - to go anywhere without Mr. Gordo," Dawn said, and tucked the pig carefully into the coffin, nestling him up against Buffy's neck.

"You're right, Dawn. She'll like having him with her."

Dawn was still touching Mr. Gordo, and her fingers moved slowly until they touched Buffy's cheek. "She's cold, Xander." _* **Hurt** *_ like nails through him, and Xander took a hard breath.

"I know, Dawn. That's - how it is." Dawn stroked Buffy's cheek one last time, and then she turned away and went into the living room. Derio smiled at her, and began to play something low and soft, and Dawn sat down on the couch, watching his fingers move over the strings. The hurt eased, a tiny bit, and Xander hugged Willow to him and followed Dawn.

 

The mechanics of getting a coffin up a slotted, twisting trail in the dark taxed the last bit of calm that Xander had, and when he and Derio finally entered the clearing where the grave was he could feel his control slipping - could the tremble in his belly and the heat in his eyes as tears threatened. He'd never been so happy to see Spike. The vampire and Oz were waiting to take the coffin as they emerged from the trees, and Xander gave up his burden thankfully, easing the coils of rope he carried over his shoulder. The rest filed in behind them; Giles with a flashlight and Derio's fiddle case, Tara holding Dawn's hand and a bag of herbs, and Willow and Anya with a Coleman lantern and another flashlight.

Spike and Oz put the coffin down and stood silently, streaked with dirt. Spike's duster was draped over an upright shovel like a scarecrow, and Oz had hung another lantern up in a tree. Everyone gathered in a circle...and Xander wished for it to be over. He didn't want to hear speeches, or say anything at all. He only wanted to rest. To go home and scrub the last two days off of him again and again, to curl up with Spike in bed and lose himself in the taste and feel of the vampire, to make love until he was too tired to think and to sleep until the hurt had eased. Spike moved over and hugged him close, and Derio did the same with Oz, cupping his cheek and kissing him once, softly, before turning his attention back to the coffin.

_*Oh, please can we just...do this. Please….*_

Spike hugged him again, hard. "What do you want to do, Watcher?" Spike asked quietly, and Giles stirred and looked around - reached up to rub his forehead. He looked younger, somehow, without his glasses on, but Xander could see his eyes better, and the hurt and loss were stark in his gaze.

"I -I suppose...I'd like to just say...Buffy was the most amazing girl - _woman_ \- that I have ever known. She - she carried the burden of being the Slayer on her shoulders and yet - yet she somehow managed to still care for her family and her friends, and to - to fight for every bit of life, and love, and laughter that she could get. She was...like a daughter...and I shall never forget her, and I shall miss her…." Giles' voice wavered and he stopped, scrabbling out his handkerchief and rubbing furiously at his eyes. Next to him, Willow put her hand on his arm and squeezed gently, then looked down at the coffin.

"She was my best friend. She helped me to - to be a better person - a stronger person. And...and I love her, and I can't - believe - she's gone." Willow blinked, tears streaking her face, and Tara was next, clutching Willow's hand and Dawn's, still.

"I d-didn't know Buffy for as long as the rest of you but she...she saved my life. She fought for all of us, and she di-didn't ask for any rewards. She was a beautiful, loving p-p-person and I will miss her very much."

Dawn's eyes were enormous, and she was shivering, and Tara slipped her arm around her shoulders. "She was my sister - even when she....found out she wasn't. She never stopped loving me. She told me to - to live. To live for her. And I promise I will, Buffy! I promise!" Dawn heaved in a hard, panting breath and buried her face in Tara's shoulder.

 _*Pain,*_ in the link, _*desolation, anger, fear,*_ and Xander, Spike and Oz all flinched from the overwhelming hurt. Spike fought the flow of emotion and narrowed the link to almost nothing, blocking it as much as he could.

_*God, that has to stop, we've got to….*_

_*Probably won't last. Didn't get much blood. It'll be all right, we'll get through it.*_

_*Pack...hurts, she hurts....*_ The wolf wanted to kill whatever was hurting the pack, and couldn't, and its frustration seethed in the link, rousing the hyena to irritable watchfulness. Setting Xander and the soldier both on edge.

_*God! Just want this done....*_

Anya was twisting a Kleenex in her fingers, and she cleared her throat, looking up. "Buffy and I weren't best friends. In fact, we weren't really friends at all. But she fought for me. She - she saved the world - a lot. And I just - just want to say thank you." Willow smiled over at her, and Anya smiled back - wiped her nose.

"She was the toughest lady I ever knew. And the sweetest. 'Bye, Buffy. Sweet dreams." Oz's voice was so low Xander had to strain to hear, and Derio glanced up and shook his head slightly, declining to talk.

_*Spike?*_

_*All right, love.*_ Spike sighed and looked up at the sky - back to the coffin. "She never gave up. It was - an honor, to fight her. And it wouldn't have been a disgrace to lose to her. _Requiescat in pace_ , Slayer."

 _*Love you….*_ Xander clutched Spike's hand hard in his - looked around the circle, at pale faces, streaked with tears, haggard with grief and weariness. "I loved how she never gave up, and how she always had some dumb pun for whoever's ass she was kicking. And I loved how she always did her best to - do the right thing. She made the fighting and the - the saving the world look easy, and I'll always be glad that I knew her." There was a long silence after that, and finally Spike stirred and moved to the side of the grave, uncoiling rope.

Xander moved to stand opposite him, and they laid the two lengths of rope across the grave. "How do we do this?" Xander asked, and Spike looked over at Oz and nodded, gesturing for him to stand opposite Xander.

"You and wolfling take these ends here. Watcher - come up here, eh? Take this." Spike pushed a rope-end into Giles hand, and he stood next to Xander, winding it around his fist a little. "You girls now - you come take this one - Niblet, I need you up here." Spike hauled three huge garbage bags out from the shadows, tearing them open. As Dawn approached him, he reached into one and pulled out a rose and handed it to her. "You stand ready, all right, poppet?"

"All right," Dawn whispered.

Spike gestured to Derio and they both walked over to the coffin. "We'll lift this and slide it out onto the ropes. You lot - hold fast, right?" _*Hold fast, love, almost done.*_ Spike and Derio lifted the coffin and carried it the few steps to the grave - slid it slowly out, Spike walking around the side and using every bit of his strength to keep the awkward burden from tipping head-first into the hole. Finally it rested, slung on the ropes, and Derio joined Oz on his rope, and Spike took up a position behind Anya.

"Right. Let the rope go, nice and slow." They all let the rope begin to slip carefully through their hands, and the coffin went jerkily down, into shadow. After a few moments it was done - the ropes went slack - and Xander and Giles pulled them from under the coffin and out, coiling them and tossing them away. Dawn was standing with the rose in her hand, looking confused.

"Spike? What - what do I do?"

"Toss them down, Bit. Cover her with them." Dawn looked uncertainly at him, and then pushed her hands into the bag - brought out a huge handful of roses and let them fall. Anya trained a flashlight down, and they all watched as the coffin became blanketed in red and white and pink roses, until the wood was almost lost to sight. Tara silently opened the small bag of herbs she had brought and tossed them down as well, adding the sharp scents of mint and sandalwood and rosemary to the sweet perfume of the roses.

 _*Roses to cover her coffin....*_ Xander thought, remembering, and Spike smiled briefly at him.

 _*Heard that...thought it was a good idea.*_

When all the roses had been tossed down, Spike got a smaller bag and pulled out a huge bundle of the lilies Dawn had requested. "These too, pet."

"But - but there won't be anything on top -" Dawn said, her voice quavering, and _*hurt hurt,*_ sharp as knives.

"It's all right, Dawnie - we'll come back. In - in seven days, we'll come back and - bring flowers and Tara wants to plant a yew tree...." Willow tried a smile, sniffing, and Dawn looked at her.

"Why seven days?"

"So I - so I can sit Shiva for her, Dawn. I'll tell you about it when we get home, okay?" Dawn nodded slowly - breathed in the fragrance of the lilies once, slowly, and then tossed them in.

"Derio?" Oz said, holding a shovel in his hands, and Derio nodded and bent to his fiddle case. He drew out the instrument and bow, and after a moment he began to play. He ran through the tune twice, and on the third time Giles' voice came in. It was soft at first - cracking and out of tune, but after a moment it steadied and gained strength, and Giles stood up straight and sang his dirge. Oz and Spike began to shovel the dirt back in, and the sound Xander was dreading to hear was muffled by the roses - drowned by the song. He hugged Dawn close and pulled her away a little, listening to Giles sing. The words were old - ancient - and he couldn't understand them much, but he felt calmer, hearing it, and smiled softly when Spike joined in, his voice a little higher than Giles', and less trained, but pleasant. The hole gradually filled in, black earth into black pit, and the music swelled out softly, drifting away over the trees, carrying some measure of their pain with it.

_"This ae nighte, this ae nighte,_  
_Every nighte and alle,_  
_Fire and fleet and candle-lighte,_  
_And Christe receive thy saule…."_

 

 

________________________  
_Portuguese translations: credo_ \- loved one  
_filho_ \- son  
_Filho da puta_ \- son of a whore

 _Spanish translations: Abuela_ \- grandmother  
_niño_ \- boy

 _"Throw bunches of roses…."_ is from _The Streets of Laredo_ , a cowboy ballad.

The Lyke Wake dirge can be found here:  
http://www.informatik.uni-hamburg.de/~zierke/steeleye.span/songs/lykewakedirge.html


	2. Gift

A curl of silvery wood rolled itself away from the tip of Xander's knife, and he ended the groove with a little twist, cutting the curl off. It fell to the porch floor among other curls - among larger chips and bits - and Xander pushed his hand back through his hair and started again, another groove just off of the first. Slow and steady, and another curl dropped. He sat back, surveying his work - wiped at his sweat-damp forehead. More concentration than heat, really; the porch was heavily shaded and caught a steady ocean breeze. But these cuts were critical, and Xander felt that at any moment his hand would slip and it would all be ruined. He stretched his neck a little, rubbed his hands on his thighs and bent to his work again.

They'd been in the new house a little over two months. Another house that Manny owned; built right after the war apparently, but still very much like the old one. Only this house had a second storey with three bedrooms and a small bathroom, and a covered porch that ran around two sides of the house. The best feature was an unfinished cellar with access to Sunnydale Below. Spike had taken a one minute tour and announced it was the place while Willow and Tara were still looking over the kitchen and Anya was testing the plumbing by flushing the toilets and turning on the faucets.

Ultimately, though, the three of them had decided, in a swift, silent exchange, that this would work. Since Buffy had died.... Xander stopped and shook his head, thinking about that.

 _*That's always going to be where our history ends and begins. There's always going to be Before Buffy Died and After Buffy Died. Especially for Dawn….*_ Xander sighed and looked at his work - reached out and ran a hand over the log of driftwood. The ashy silver color was soothing, and the wood itself was smooth as silk. The shape had been suggestive enough that the moment Xander had seen it, he'd known what he would carve. Two earlier carvings - or attempts - were down on the beach in the pile of firewood they'd amassed. This one, though - he wanted to be different. Hoped would be different.

_*Pet?*_

_*Side porch.*_ Xander bent over the log and started another groove.

_*What're you doing?*_

Even in the link Spike sounded muzzy and half asleep, and Xander grinned. _*Fooling myself.*_

"Don't say that." Spike came out onto the porch and crouched down beside Xander, leaning lightly on his thigh.

Xander glanced over at the naked vampire and grinned a little harder. "Everybody's gonna be here soon, you know?"

"Yeah?" Supremely indifferent, Spike waited until the latest curl of wood fell, and then he leaned his full weight into Xander's thigh and side, nuzzling at his ribs and tracing a teasing path with his tongue. _*Taste gooood, pet.*_

_*Feels...good...stop, now! I have to finish this. Do you think….*_

"I think it's just fine, love." Spike reached out to take the hand that had fallen laxly between Xander's knees. He pressed his lips to Xander's open palm and kissed - folded Xander's fingers around the kiss. "Don't fret. She'll see it for what it is."

"What _is_ it? I don't want her to - I don't want her to be sad again, Spike." Xander turned to face the vampire finally, and Spike crowded close to him, gathering both of Xander's hands into his and kissing the work-roughened knuckles. He gazed up at Xander, utterly serious, and Xander gazed back, feeling the first real stirrings of misgiving.

He'd seen this wood on the beach below their house. A sturdy chunk of driftwood, almost four feet long. A moment's effort had righted it, and its shape - a gentle, arching bow - had immediately suggested a winged figure to him. He'd seen it entire in one glance and known what he wanted to do. Bring the form out of the wood, and put it as a marker on Buffy's grave. Because to him, the figure was Buffy; leaping away from them all, into the ether and into death. Forever caught in that one, perfect moment between flying and falling when it seemed that gravity would reverse itself and she would soar.

"She may _be_ sad, love - but it won't last. Bit knows you - she'll see it." Spike's look was so grave that Xander had to smile, and he leaned forward and caught Spike's mouth in a long, gentle kiss.

"You're right. It'll be okay." Xander glanced to his right, down the long corridor of shaded porch that ran the entire length of the southern wall. It curved around the back of the house as well, but the west side wasn't as shaded as the south or east, and the sky still glowed blue between the tree branches. "It's, what - another hour until sunset?"

"Something like," Spike answered. He got up and paced around the carving, examining it critically, and Xander watched him. The first week After Buffy Died had been the hardest, and Spike had taken the brunt of it.

_"No, no, **no**! Don't leave me! Please, don't leave me alone!" Shrill scream, *fear hurt fear **fear** ,* in the link, enough to bring the hyena roaring to the surface, and Spike was there, gathering Dawn into his arms and shushing her, holding her - soothing her nightmare away only to have it come back again in a half an hour - an hour. _

_Staying with Dawn all night, pacing half the day, too afraid to leave her and too on edge to hunt. Closing the link down to almost nothing to spare Xander and Oz, but Xander had sat in the living room chair every night, watching them, doing what he could. Refusing to leave Spike to deal with it alone. Oz there too, silent and hurting, his control over the wolf fraying with each nerve-scraping night. Like the hyena it wanted to **fight** , but there was nothing **to** fight, and the two patrols they'd gone on had been - savage._

 

Spike _looked_ fine - the gaunt, harried look was gone, and he seemed his old self, most days. But sometimes there were breaks in the link - moments of blankness or confusion that Xander couldn't pin down or even explain, just feel. Spike didn't so much ignore them as seem to not _notice_ them, but they made Xander nervous. Spike's anxiety about what Glory had done kept coming back to him, but he couldn't bring himself to say anything when nothing really seemed to be _wrong_.

Spike had been right about the link with Dawn, though - it had faded to almost nothing, and they now needed to be close to Dawn - ten feet or less - to feel her. The magic, Spike said, that made the link in the first place had forged the bond, but without regular doses of blood - or the slightest bit of Spike's blood - it simply became a sort of heightened empathy. That had been a guilty relief, to feel Dawn slipping out and away. The raw edges of sorrow and guilt were too hard to stitch back into any semblance of a whole when her all-consuming grief had been unraveling it daily.

Dawn seemed better now, too - more her old self, if a little quieter. The 'bot did patrol and made appearances now and again, and Dawn seemed to take it in stride. Willow had programmed away Warren's taint - something like a cross between a Stepford wife and a spinster aunt; all eager-to-please snuggle-bunny one minute and conservative school-marm the next. Warren had issues, it seemed. 

Spike ran his hand down the curved flank of the carving - skipped his fingers over the feathers carved in high relief. Xander had done random feathers - random features - so that some of the figure was unbroken sweeps of smooth, long lines, and other parts were carefully detailed, catching the light just so and making eye and mouth, hand and sweep of hair and the extended tips of two wings look as realistic as possible. 

_*How long?*_

"Mmmm...half an hour? I just want to finish this here -" Xander touched the rippled edge of the base of the figure. It had somehow acquired what looked like waves beneath the elongated, nearly featureless feet, and he wanted to add a few more shadows.  
"I think I'll go up and draw a bath, then." Spike stepped around the figure and slid weightlessly down onto Xander's lap - kissed him with utmost concentration; hands twined in Xander's hair, back arching and his hips moving in a slow, slow roll. Xander's heart skipped up fast to a rabbity pounding and he had to pull back finally, gasping in a hard breath and laughing a little.

"Fuck, Spike, you...." _*Make me crazy, wanting you - needing you.*_

_*How it should be. You're fuckin' gorgeous...taste so good...come upstairs, love….*_

"Ten minutes - fifteen, tops. I swear." Spike nipped at Xander's lower lip - nuzzled into the crook of his neck for a moment and then he was up and off, walking inside with that loose-hipped strut that made Xander feel a little light-headed. He watched appreciatively until Spike was out of sight, then he turned back to his work. After a bit Xander could hear music - a mixed CD of stuff one of Derio's bandmates had made for Spike - and the vampire was singing in his head.

_"I'm hurtin', I'm wantin'_  
_I'm achin' for another go._  
_You're squirmin' wet, baby_  
_Nothin' bad comin' very slow_  
_And it's burnin' holes in me…."_

 

Not five minutes later Oz and Derio arrived, piling bags of supplies onto the kitchen table and talking about the beach - a fire. Making plans. It was Dawn's birthday, and they were going to cook hot dogs and marshmallows and sit on the beach, a _family only_ party at Dawn's insistence. At the moment she was out with Tara, Willow, Anya and Janice having a 'Ladies Day' at some salon or spa or something. Xander wasn't sure, but he knew it involved seaweed and wax and mud and _lattes_ , for God's sake. Oz came out onto the porch after a moment and unconsciously echoed Spike, crouching down next to Xander and studying the figure.

"Hey, Oz."

"Hey."

_*All right?*_

_*Sure. The 'bot wants to come to the party.*_

"What the fuck for?" Xander said it a little too sharply but Oz only raised an eyebrow and slowly shook his head.

"It's really got the 'I am the big sister' thing down." _*Its place and all. Very insistent.*_

"Damn." Xander put down the knife and rooted out a piece of sandpaper from his kit - carefully smoothed away a rough edge. "I guess we - we can send it on patrol. Maybe it'll forget."

"Yeah." Oz reached out and ran his fingers over the hand of the figure. "This looks great, Xander."

"Thanks." Xander gave a final rub with the sandpaper and sat back, looking critically. "I guess most people who do stuff like this always feel like - it's never really _done_. But I guess - I'd better say it _is_ done or I'll still be cutting on it come Christmas."

_*It's done. Falling angel - I think she'll like it, Xander.*_

_*Thanks, Oz. Love you.*_

Oz smiled up at him, his hair freshly violet in honor of the day, his eyes vivid green in the golden light of the setting sun. He looked - so happy, and Xander reached out and rubbed his shoulder, smiling back. Happy for him.

"Hope you got a ton of stuff - Spike's never had S'mores and I get the feeling he's gonna like 'em."

"Got enough for an army. Derio has some peculiar ideas about what you cook over a bonfire."

"Hey!" Derio yelled from the kitchen. "Nothing peculiar about wanting to make kebabs!"

"Yeah, but - eggplant and breadfruit and coconut? You're a freak."

"You like me that way. Damn - that's just… _estupendo_ , Xander - _muy hermoso_." Derio stood in the kitchen doorway, gazing out at the figure, and Xander felt himself blushing a little - but straightening up and smiling, too.

"Thanks, man. I - I'm really happy with it. Most of the time."

"You should be." Derio stepped out onto the porch and spent a couple of minutes examining the carving with Oz, and Xander finally felt his worries about the piece slipping away. Spike was right - Dawn knew him, and she would see - what he meant. See the love and not the loss.

"I'm gonna say it's done," Xander said finally, and Oz helped him lift it and move it over to the top corner of the porch, out of harm's way and not immediately noticeable. Xander draped an old sheet over it and then grabbed the broom, sweeping the wood chips and other detritus into a pile.

"Leave that, Xander. If we put that all in a bucket with a little fuel oil or something it'll make a good starter for the fire."

"Sure, Oz." Xander propped the broom in the corner and closed up the tool-box where he kept his wood-caring stuff. Nothing too fancy or even professional, but over the months he'd assembled an eclectic mix of chisels and knives and other things that seemed to work. He shoved the box up against the house and picked up his shirt from the back of the chair.  
"I'm gonna go - up -" he started, and Oz grinned at him.  
"Yeah - noticed that," Oz said, smirking, and Xander laughed. The link was thick with formless, horny impulses and the occasional X-rated image and Oz leaned against Derio and slipped his hands around the other man's waist as Xander ducked inside. He grabbed a couple of bottles of beer and trotted upstairs, Spike's _*hurry up, pet, wanna taste you....*_ in his head and The Damned in his ears.

_"We made it on a Ballroom Blitz_  
_I took his arms and kissed his lips_  
_He looked at me with such a smile my face turned red_  
_We booked a room into the Ritz_  
_Ooooohh_  
_He gives me head…."_

"That a request? Or you offering?" Xander tossed his shirt into the laundry basket and skimmed out of his jeans. Spike was up to his nose in water, his hands lazily stroking over his body.

"That's a promise, but I won't stop you from doing - anything." Spike's eyes were half-lidded, shimmering gold behind his lashes and Xander felt that look go straight through him, ending in a coil of heat in his cock. He put the beers on the ledge over the tub and stepped into the water. The bathroom was fragrant with bath-oil and a couple of candles; hazy with steam, gilded with diffused sunlight.

"Wait -" Spike sat up fast and grabbed Xander's arms. "Don't go under - just kneel here.  
Wanna -" He leaned forward and ran his tongue slowly from Xander's ribs to this collarbone, and Xander shivered, closing his eyes.

_*Taste so good, pet, love it when you're hot and sweating and all...woodsy.*_

Xander snorted laughter but it trailed off to a moan as Spike grazed lips, then tongue, then teeth over his nipples and then up to his throat. He nipped at the scar there and Xander writhed, sucking in a hard breath. He had his hands on Spike's hips and he squeezed, pulling the vampire closer. Spike resisted - bent a little and began to lick his way across pectorals, ribs and belly, leaving little beads of blood where his fangs snagged on skin. Xander ran his hands up Spike's torso, rubbing his thumbs over Spike's nipples - scratching at them - then moving higher and sinking his fingers into Spike's hair, tugging him closer. Spike licked wide stripes up his body, sucking on the blood, clutching Xander's buttocks in his hands and kneading the muscles. Then he dipped down, half under the water, and fastened his mouth around Xander's cock.

 _*Oh, fuck - Spike!*_ Nip with the fangs, then cool lap of tongue and Spike's fingers prying between Xander's buttocks, the oil in the water easing the way. Xander put his hands on the edges of the tub, clutching fiercely as Spike licked and sucked and gently, gently bit. As his fingers wormed their way into Xander's body and stroked him from the inside-out. Xander's legs were trembling, his lungs were hitching and catching on every breath, and if he arched his head back any harder he thought he might just snap his neck.

 _*That's good, that's - right - God! - there, love, love you, Spike....*_ Xander groaned aloud as the orgasm pulled his body tight and sizzled through his belly and cock like cool sparks. He couldn’t stop the frantic thrusting of his hips - forward into cool moisture, backwards onto twisting, teasing, clever fingers. When it was over Spike slid up Xander's body and kissed him, pushing the demon away so he could do it _hard_ , and deep as he liked. Then he settled back on his knees and pulled Xander over him.

"Ready, yeah? Let me in, pet -" Xander put his forearms on Spike's shoulders and let the vampire guide him - groaned again as Spike's cock pushed at him and then eased inside.

_*Ready, ready, just - *_

_*Hold on to me -*_ Spike lifted his hips and pulled and Xander slid down, fast and hard and _burn_ , delicious flare that settled immediately to a too-good ache. Spike hissed, his fingers clutching Xander hard, and he lifted and yanked down, setting up a fast, hard rhythm that jolted little bolts of pleasure through Xander's body, reviving his erection.

 _*Want it deeper - Spike, want it -*_ Spike rose up suddenly, tipping Xander back and he grabbed the tub edges again - let Spike hoist him up and get his legs up over Spike's shoulders and then the vampire was pounding in; grumbling moan deep in his chest, fingernails leaving half-moon cuts. Xander let his head fall back, half-submerged, letting Spike's strength hold him up, opening himself as wide as he could, arching his back and _begging_ for it, loving it.

_*Look like - perfect, like - fuckin' lovely, love you like this, Xander, mine mine **mine**!*_

_*Fuck yes yours -*_

Spike snarled and darted forward, one hand in the small of Xander's back and the other gripping his neck, lifting it and Xander tipped his chin up, gasping, pushing back. Sudden fever-hot prickle of fangs and then that ache, that fire-edged razor that skittered down every nerve ending and made him arch up convulsively, desperately. He could feel Spike inside him, pulse of seed and flesh, and Spike's hand was suddenly on his face - his mouth - awkward push and Xander sank his teeth into the meaty pad of Spike's palm and keened, his body stuttering into orgasm again as the pepper-salt- _fire_ of inhuman blood filled his mouth.

Spike's frantic thrusting gradually eased and then stopped, and he moved his hand away - lifted Xander up and maneuvered him so they were lying together. Xander nibbled gently on the scar on Spike's neck and then kissed him. Sighed in utter contentment.

 _*Love you love you,*_ mindless chant that was reflected right back. Somewhere downstairs there was a creaking noise - a muffled yelp - and Spike and Xander both grinned at the image that flared in the link. Derio, Oz's hands in his dreads and - The image cut off abruptly, laughter in the link, and Xander worked his hands under Spike and scratched gently at the small of his back.

"Don't wanna get up now. Don't wanna move for hours."

"All right love. We'll just lie here and prune. We'll look ever so special at the Bit's party."

"Spiiike! Damnit." Xander lifted his head and shot an evil a glare at the vampire as his post-coital brain was able to manufacture. "Why'd you have to fuck me half unconscious?"

"'Cause I can? 'Cause you wanted me too?"

"Right both times," Xander sighed, and levered himself shakily upright - reached for the soap. "Gotta be fresh and unsullied when the girls get here. Wouldn't want them thinking -"

"Oh please." Spike rolled his eyes, snatching the soap and rubbing it briskly over Xander's chest. "They do _know_ we fuck at every opportunity and believe you me, if you think Glinda-witch and Red haven't entertained a few...dirty thoughts from time to time, you're barmy."

"Wha-? No, I will _not_ go there. _So_ not going there. Willow is practically my _sister_. And Tara is - shy and unspoiled. She'd never -"

"Love, that girl's wicked as the day is long." Spike grinned, splashing soap off of him, and Xander had to grin back. Downstairs all was quiet and the link projected a low, sated buzz. It was infinitely tempting to slip into it and just drowse, but Xander wet his hair under the water and reached for the shampoo instead.

"I am not thinking in any way that's remotely sexual about Tara and Willow. Can't make me." Xander stuck out his tongue and Spike lunged for it, growling.

"How 'bout demon-girl?"

Xander submerged himself again, scrubbing at shampoo, and felt Spike sluicing water over his back. _*Anya? Anya....*_ A brief image, the three of them doing something - athletic. There was a ripple of shocked laughter from Oz and another growl from Spike, who snatched him up out of the water.

"You're _wicked_ , pet. Taught you well, I have." He had an insufferably smug look on his face and Xander flicked suds at him, struggling to his feet and snatching his towel.

"You _have_ corrupted me something awful. Whatever shall I do?" Xander simpered and clambered over the tub edge onto the bathmat.

_*Wash my hair?*_

_*Evil undead, **ha**!*_ Xander wrapped the towel around his waist and poured out shampoo - bent to scrub Spike's hair, scratching his scalp and teasing the longish strands into soapy spikes. _*Oh! That's cute.*_ Xander fed the image into the link and there was a burst of raucous laughter from downstairs. Spike plunged his head under, swishing it violently to rinse out the soap. Foamy water surged up over the edge of the tub and splashed everywhere, soaking the bathmat.

_*You pillock.*_

"I am _not_ cleaning this up, Spike. You git."

 _*Maybe 'You wanker' would have been the better word choice.*_ Spike surfaced and splashed the last of the soap off his chest, blinking cartoonishly as water dripped into his eyes. Xander leaned forward and kissed him fast and then skipped away, grabbing his toothbrush.

"Learned from the best. Hurry up, evil undead. We gotta get dressed."

"Should'a fucked you unconscious," Spike mumbled, and pulled the plug on the tub.

 

They got downstairs without too much more delay and Oz and Xander started sorting things into coolers and bags. The radio was on, playing a selection of 'Golden Oldies.' Spike sat on the kitchen counter smoking and contemplating Derio's dreads. He fingered them while Derio tuned his fiddle.

"You need some bones in here. That would be neat," Spike mused, shaking a dread so that the cluster of tiny brass bells on it jingled.

"What sort of bones? I'm thinkin' chicken bones would be a big stray-cat magnet." Derio plucked a string and twisted the tuning key a little, frowning absently.

"No, no soddin' chicken bones. Finger bones would be best. They're small and light and make a nice clicking sound." Derio looked over at Spike and shook his head.

 _*Stop that, evil undead,*_ from Xander, and Spike blew smoke at him, grinning. Oz was smiling.

"S'true."

"I'm sure. _But_. I don't know anybody whose fingers I want to chop off, currently. That Riley guy _is_ dead, right?"

Spike stubbed his cigarette out. "As a doornail, mate." He picked up another dread, examining the beads that were strung along it.

"Right. Well, until I find some _other pendeja_ that I want to maim for life, I think I'll remain bone-free," Derio said.

Spike shrugged and did a last brush of his fingers through Derio's hair - jumped down off the counter and rummaged out a whiskey bottle. "Better tuck this in somewhere, pet." He held the bottle out to Xander who grabbed his wrist and pulled him close.

"Behave, vampire-mine. No getting drunk at Dawn's party."

"Not enough in there to get me drunk," Spike scoffed, shaking the half-empty bottle and leaning on Xander, running his free hand up his back and through the glossy-brown hair.

"Mmmm...right." Xander swayed against him for a moment and then pulled away, smiling. "Gotta get this stuff down to the beach."

"Sun's not quite down -" Spike maneuvered for a kiss and Xander melted into him - pulled back a second time.

"Spike -"

"I'll carry _all_ of it down in ten more minutes. Gimme ten minutes, pet...." Spike fell to kissing again, swaying slightly to the music on the radio and he barely noticed Oz and Derio leaving, carrying some of the bags, _*start the fire*_ faintly in the link. Xander was warm and solid in his arms - in the link. Everything he was, distilled down to _sweet_ and _love_ and _*mine yours always*_ Xander settled his arms around Spike's waist and leaned his head on Spike's shoulder and Spike shut his eyes and held him close, fingers tangled in the long hair, his other hand a little awkward in the small of Xander's back, still clutching the bottle.

The music changed - segued into Glen Miller and _that_ song, the one that had played so long ago - over a year. The first time they'd _really_ kissed...the first time it had actually meant something. Spike sank into the memory, reliving the despair and the loneliness - reliving the rush of incredulous joy. Xander was right there, adding his own side to it, his own feelings of want and fear and budding love. In all the mess with Glory - with Joyce - they'd never really done anything to mark the year turning over, and now Xander showed Spike a flurry of images and emotions; showed him his _soul_ and his demon and himself and made it clear, so very clear, that he had never been happier - never been more content.

_*Year and a half. Feels like forever - like a day. Love you, love you.*_

_*Love you too, Spike. My own, my vampire, **mine** for always.*_

_*Yeah...yours...always....*_ Xander lifted his head and Spike kissed him. Soft, and easy and all-consuming - everything he loved about Xander and about _them_ swirling through the link. His heart right there, on his lips and in the hands that cradled his love closer still. Neither of them noticed the bottle sliding and thunking to the floor, neither of them noticed the front door opening and the girls coming in. The music buoyed them up and up, and the kiss did and Spike never wanted it to end.

It did though of course, when _*sweet hot brother*_ hit the link and they both were instantly aware of Dawn. Spike couldn't help the grin that stretched his mouth and the kiss ended on a soft laugh.

"Is this part of the party, then?" Anya asked, and Willow rolled her eyes.

"Not until Dawn is twenty-one," she snapped, and then slapped her hand to her mouth, her eyes going wide. "I did _not_ say that out loud!"

"You _did_ though! And I have witnesses to prove it!" Dawn bounced gleefully, poking Willow until the witch flailed at her hands.

"Stop that, Dawn. We'll just - we'll just talk about it later. Right. Party?"

"Party, Willow. Oz and Derio went down to start the fire, and we have some stuff that needs to go down -" Laughing, Xander made a gesture towards the remaining bags of supplies, somewhat hampered by the fact that Spike still had his arms wrapped around him.

"I just spent over one hundred dollars on manicures which _nobody_ is going to ruin by doing manual labor!" Anya glared at Tara, who had already stepped forward to grab a bag. Tara hesitated, glancing at her hands.

"But, Anya -"

"No! Don't. Touch. _Anything_." She looked over at Spike and Spike lifted an eyebrow at her.

"We have a vampire and some sort of super-boy here -"

"Super-boy?" Spike sniggered, and Xander whapped him.

"Yes, well, he's not _normal_ , is he? You two can carry stuff. Dawn is the Birthday Girl. No labor for her."

"Yeah, I'm the Birthday Girl!" Dawn preened, fanning her freshly done nails languidly in front of her face and Spike stepped away from Xander, advancing on her. Cued by a fast explanation in the link, and he smirked.

"Isn't there some Yankee custom about - spankings?" Spike asked, and Dawn gaped at him for a moment before squeaking and jumping behind Tara. 

"No! I mean, yes, but - I'm too old for that"

"Never too old, Dawnie!" Xander said gleefully, advancing from the other side and Dawn shrieked and darted towards the living room. Spike pounced and scooped her up - whirled her around and around until she was beating on his shoulders with her fists.

"Spike! I'm gonna hurl! Put me down!"

Spike put her down immediately and took a step back. "Don't do that, Bit." Spike _hated_ being around humans that were throwing up. It made him….

_*Queasy? You get queasy? Ha! **So** not the evil undead!*_

_*You'd get queasy, too, if you could hear it and smell it like I can,*_ Spike grumped, and reached out to steady Dawn as she staggered a little, dizzy.

 _*Love family,*_ from Dawn, faint but _there_ , and Spike froze for one second and then pulled Dawn close and hugged her.

"Many happy returns of the day, Dawn."

"Thanks, Spike." Dawn stood up on tiptoe and kissed his cheek and then she slipped away, back to the kitchen were Tara was poking through bags and Willow was getting a drink. Anya was fiddling with a disposable camera and Spike realized she'd been taking pictures.

_*Oh great.*_

_*Gonna get me copies - lots and lots - giant size!*_ Xander grinned at him from the kitchen doorway and Spike chose to ignore him - stalked past and grabbed his cigarettes.

"Time to go down to the fire, eh?" he said, just as Oz and Derio came back in.

"Yeah, time, but.... Dawn - I - I have a present for you but I couldn't wrap it or anything.... You'll have to get it now." Xander's voice was shaky but Dawn didn't seem to notice. She grinned and bounced a little.

"Cool! Can't wrap it, that means it's a - what - a car? A _motorcycle_?"

"You wish! You're not even sixteen." Xander went over to her and took her hand, leading her to the porch door. Oz and Derio stepped back outside and everyone else followed the pair out.

"So? I can get a learners permit now!"

"Over my dead body," Spike mumbled, and Tara sent him a flashing smile. They were all on the porch now, and Xander went over to the statue, took the edge of the sheet in his hand and fiddled with it for a moment. The link was full of his unease, anticipation, nerves and a little fear.

"I hope - I hope that.... I really just wanted to -" _*Spike! Help!*_

_*S'all right, love. Just get it over. You'll see.*_

Xander nodded and pulled the sheet off, and there was a long, long silence.

 _*Hurt,*_ in the link, sharp and hard and Xander flinched, eyes miserable, but then _*beautiful beautiful lonely love family,*_ and Dawn was hugging Xander, whispering into his neck.

"I love it, it's Buffy, it's Buffy, right? It's so beautiful, Xander, I love it, thank you…."

_*Told you.*_

_*Yeah. Thank God*_ "Yeah, it's Buffy. I know - you really wanted something for - a marker or something…." Xander trailed off helplessly as Willow came up and hugged him as well.

"It's wonderful," Willow said, and Xander patted her back.

"It really is, Xander. You're s-so talented."

"Thanks, Tara. Thanks, guys." Xander sniffed, and Spike just leaned on the doorjamb, smiling fondly at him. Anya was inspecting the figure closely and Spike could practically see dollar signs in her eyes.

_*You are talented, you know. And...love you.*_

_*Love you too.*_ Xander sniffed again, gave Willow and Dawn a last squeeze and set them back a little. "Party time, okay? I'm glad you like it, Dawn, I really am. But let's go get sick on S'mores and hot dogs, okay?"

Dawn sniffed, too, wiped her eyes and grinned. "Yeah, okay. And we'll all go skinny-dipping! Like witches do! I've always wanted to do that." Tara blushed, hiding a smile in her hair and Willow sniggered softly. Oz and Derio squeezed past Spike and gathered up the rest of the bags and Spike sniffed appreciatively at the faint odor of woodsmoke and sea that clung to them.

"What? Dawn! Have you no shame?" Xander grinned at her and they moved away, off the porch, heading for the beach. Everyone trailed behind, except for Spike, who stood smoking and looking at the figure.

_*Coming, love?*_

_*Just gonna wait for the Watcher.*_

_*Oh - all right.*_ They ambled across the back lawn, silhouetted against a deep-plum sky. The first stars of the evening were faint pin-pricks and the new moon had just cleared the roof of the house. Spike reached inside the doorway and flicked off the porch-light, relaxing into the warm dark.

 _*Family keeps growing. Have to keep alert - can't let them come to any harm.*_ The demon surfaced briefly, scenting the air, reassuring itself that all was well.

_*Protect. Protect **all** *_

"Yeah, no worries there, mate." Spike walked down off the porch and circled the house, the grass cool under his bare feet. There were headlights coming down the street and Spike watched them; after a moment he identified the Watcher's Crisis-mobile. He smirked a little, watching it. As Giles pulled up to the curb and turned the engine off, Spike felt an insistent tickle of something. He froze, listening, _feeling_ \- and then Giles was climbing out of the car, looking uneasy, and the passenger door was opening. The demon snarled, and Spike let it come, his body tense. The figure in the car hesitated and then stood slowly, and Spike felt his human self come back in utter shock.

"Bloody _fucking_ hell! _Angelus_?"

 

 _*I'll kill Red for this,*_ Spike thought, stopping the DeSoto with a jerk. He got out of the car and stomped around to Angel's side - yanked the door open and bodily hauled the other vampire out. Angel was drunk, and stank vaguely of _something_.... Spike couldn't tell what, but it was pissing him off and setting the demon on edge.

"What're we doin' here? This isn'a...graveyard." Angel blinked, bewildered, at the trees and the rutted track that led upwards and Spike wanted to smack him. 

"She's not in a graveyard, you git. Word gets out the Hellmouth is unprotected, what'll you think happens?"

Angel looked at him and then around one more time. "Somthin' bad?"

"Yeah - somethin' bad. C'mon. Maybe the walk'll sober you up." They went up the trail, Angel slithering and slipping in his city-shoes, catching his jacket on bushes and brambles. Spike cursed the entire way, keeping his voice low but making sure Angel heard every epithet he could think of.

 _*Great lumbering bastard. If he'd actually given a shite he'd have come 'round long before this.*_ Spike whirled abruptly on the path, glaring at Angel. "Where the hell have you been anyway, you toff? You stink of something."

Angel stopped and regarded Spike, panting a little.

_*Christ, he's drunk! Never does that, otherwise.*_

"We - we were inna - nother' dimension. 'Nother place. I could - could be in the sun, there…."

Spike stared at him. "Yeah? So why'd you come back?"

"Oh -" Angel waved his arm vaguely, reeling off-balance just a little. "They were gonna kill me. Kill...us."

"Figures. Everywhere you go, mate." Spike turned around and resumed walking, and in a few more minutes they came out into the open. The grave had sunk slightly, but the pansies and sweet woodruff planted on it covered that, as did the three-foot yew that Tara had put near the head. Spike made a 'go ahead' gesture at Angel and after a moment the other stumbled forward. He stood for a moment at the foot of the grave and then sank down. His shoulders hunched, and he seemed to shrink in on himself, shuddering. After a moment the strangled sounds coming from him made sense and Spike stared at the bowed shoulders.

 _*Daft bastard is actually crying! He'll never forget I saw this - if he actually remembers any of it come the dawn.*_ Spike shook his head and began a slow pacing around the perimeter of the clearing. He knew Angel really _had_ loved the Slayer, but as far as Spike was concerned, he got no sympathy. When you loved someone you didn't just abandon them. Not if you really cared. He'd never have left Dru if she hadn't told him to go - told him he couldn't make her happy anymore. And she'd only come back to him because of Angel, so there was no blame there for turning her away that last time. But the Slayer.... Xander had told him, what he'd seen in her soul. That she still loved the Irish git. That she was just too afraid and too hurt to try again, but that she'd never stopped wanting him. And Angel had just tripped off to LaLa land and never even had the decency to try and make it work. Spike snorted, laughing at himself.

_*And I'm not biased, oh no. But he thinks this will somehow...make up for it? It just adds another stroke of the flogger - another act of penance. If he couldn't wallow in misery he'd probably lay down and die.*_

He could very faintly feel Xander in the link - feel the warmth of being in the midst of everyone - feel the happiness. He resented every second Angel was making him miss that - missing his _family_ , the bastard, and missing the Bit's party. He hoped Xander had been able to explain it well enough so Niblet wouldn't be mad at him.

 _*Hurry up, you cunt,*_ Spike thought furiously, and stalked over to Angel, demon to the fore and snarling.

"Get up, Angelus. We're leaving." Angel shuddered, head in hands, and Spike poked him with the toe of his boot. "You can do this in the car, although I'd rather you didn't. Or on the way back to LA. But now it's time to go. Dawn's expecting me."

Angel raised his head finally, and the pallid glow of the moon caught the tear-tracks on his face and turned them silver - showed his eyes like pits, sunk into his head. "God - Spike - is there no pity in ya? No - compassion?"

"Not for _you_ , Angelus. You had time to fix things with the Slayer if you wanted but you didn't. Cry 'til you drown the world and she won't be comin' back. Too late for pity, and compassion's wasted on you." Angel's eyes were wide and his mouth worked, as if he would speak or spit or _scream_ , and Spike glared back at him, knowing there was nothing in his demons-face that belied his words.

"She said - I was hurtin' her, Spike. Hurtin' her an' - I couldn't...see her suffer. Do ya understand, boy? I couldn'a...." Something in the link - something for just a moment; a pang of loss and sorrow, and Spike sighed heavily - bent down and hauled Angel to his feet.

"So you left and hurt her that way instead. Say goodbye, Angelus. She's for the worms two months and more, and that's an end of it." Angel stared down at him - scrubbed his face and pushed his hands back through his hair. Spike wanted to laugh at the wild disorder of the stiff strands but for once he didn't.

"Let me...jus' say...." Angel took a hard breath and looked down at the grave again, and Spike walked a few steps away, giving him the illusion of privacy. Angel's words were slurred with drink, but his voice cracked with the emotion behind them, and Spike silently conceded that what Angel was feeling was genuine.

_*Doesn't matter, though. Her dyin' still broke all their hearts, and he's lucky it's just him and me. If he'd have tried to see the Bit….*_

"I'm sorry, Buffy - so sorry, sweet lass... If I could'a changed ev'rythin' - I'd do it fer ya, sweetheart. Fergi' me, Buffy." Angel took another breath and then he turned around and walked away, heading back towards the trail and the car, and Spike followed him, both silent. As they drove through Sunnydale Angel slumped in his seat, barely aware. Pulling up to the house he lifted his head and stared through the window - turned to face Spike.

"My car - s'at Giles' house."

"The walk'll do you good, Angelus. Get out." Spike got out of the car and walked around it - watched Angel lever himself out of the seat and stand there. Faintly, they could both hear Derio's fiddle, and laughter, and the pop and hiss of the fire.

"My family's waiting for me, Angelus. Go on back, now. Don't come here anymore."

"Spike -" Angel lifted a hand towards him and then let it fall limply to his side, and he nodded. Spike spun on his heel and strode away, heading towards the beach, and warmth, and family, his _family_. He brushed Angel out of his mind and leaped lightly down the sloping cliff-face, seeing Xander's face turn towards him, and Oz. Seeing anxiety melt to happiness and welcome, and he caught Xander's hand and pulled him into a kiss.

Later, when the moon was setting and everyone was quiet around the fire, talking softly and listening to Derio play a low, slow tune...Spike felt the static-shock frisson of another vampire's presence. But he didn't look around for Angel, and after a while it was gone.

 

 

_________________________  
Alice Cooper - _Blue Turk_  
The Damned - _Jet Boy, Jet Girl_  
_estupendo_ \- amazing  
_muy hermoso_ \- very beautiful  
_pendeja_ \- asshole


	3. Surprise

"I found out why Mr. Giles is acting weird." Everyone paused, and the fledge that Spike was eviscerating dangled, whimpering. Xander shoved his stake through the fledge he'd tackled and stood up, brushing himself off. Oz patted the bit of tomb next to him in a 'come sit' gesture.

"Did you, Anya?"

"You mean it's _not_ that he's a middle-aged British man all alone on the Hellmouth goin' barmy 'cause his almost-daughter is dead?" Spike looked at the wriggling fledge - looked back at the other three who were staring at him. "What?"

"Stake him, Spike. We need to know."

"Right, right." Spike turned back to the fledge and grinned. The fledge did his best to smile back but his guts were slipping towards his knees and he couldn't quite manage it. Spike fished around for a stake and a moment later he was dusting ash off his arm and slipping straight razor and stake both back into their respective pockets. He walked over to the others, lighting a cigarette. Anya was perched on the tomb next to Oz now, and Xander was leaning beside her.

"So - what's the scoop?" Xander asked. Spike slid his arm around Xander's waist and leaned on him a bit, smiling to himself when Xander automatically leaned back.

_*Mine*_ and _*Pack*_ and _*Family*_ and _*Love*_ a low and constant thrum in the link. Spike didn't much care about the Watcher acting funny, but Anya had come by the house earlier and said she wanted to come on patrol - wouldn't take no for an answer - and Spike was curious. For a change Dawn was home, being drilled by the witches on her American Lit make-up work. She had to pass the test this week and then she could go on to the next grade. She'd whined about it, but in the end had agreed summer school was better than repeating a year. Hell gods made it difficult to be scholarly.

"Well, about a week ago - right after Dawn's party - he got a letter. I couldn't find out who it was from, the address was all blurry, but when he read it he got very white and nervous and upset. He wouldn't tell me about it. Later, when I was pretending to dust the office I found the letter and read it and now.... Here, see what you think." Anya pulled a battered envelope out of her pocket and held it out to Xander, who recoiled slightly.

"Whoa! Hey. Uh - maybe not, Anya. I mean - maybe it's family business, you know? I don't really wanna read the man's private mail."

"Well - you read it, Oz." Anya held the letter out again, and Oz slowly shook his head.

"Not good for the karma, Anya. I don't think so."

"Oh, bloody Hell!" _*Don't be such wankers!*_ Spike snatched the letter out of Anya's hand and opened it - unfolded the single sheet and scanned it for a moment.

_"My dear Ripper - Despite our best efforts, here I am, coming right back to you like a homing pigeon. Or maybe a bad penny? Something like that. You can't begin to imagine the things that have happened, and I have you to thank for most of them.  
I'll be there soon, to tell you in person. And please don't try to warn me off or have your Slayer come after me. Things have...changed. Your old friend, Ethan"_

"Huh. So, an old school mate or somthin' is comin' to visit -" Spike started, but he felt the sudden tension in the link and looked up from stuffing the letter back into the envelope.

"No - not an old school mate, Spike. A very powerful wizard. Or sorcerer - something. A powerful, pissed _off_ wizard, sounds like." Xander was looking at Oz, his eyes filled with worry, and Oz was tapping one hand thoughtfully on his knee.

Anya took the letter out of Spike's hand and studied it. "I think I can make out the post-mark. It says Rio. Is that Brazil? Or is it Reno…." She squinted, holding it to the light. Xander was looking more unhappy by the minute and Spike leaned his chin on his shoulder, thumb stroking over Xander's hipbone.

"It's that bloke that made him a Fyarl demon, right?" Spike asked. He remembered the Watcher saying something about an old mate of his, but the name wouldn't come.

"Yeah - Ethan Rayne. He's been here a few times. " Xander and Oz both fed bits of memory through the link - Halloween, the Band candy incident, the demon-turning. Buffy getting kidnapped and almost sacrificed to a vengeful god. Bits of things Giles had said, from time to time.

_*He's been busy.*_

"Last time he was here - the Initiative took him. Giles - handed him over." The silent shock in the link at that made Xander twist around to look at Spike. Spike made no effort to control the growl that rattled up out of his chest, or the snarl that was curling his lip.

_*Deserves what he gets, then.*_

_*I don't - know. Ethan hurt a lot of people.*_

_*You don't sell out a mate.*_ That was that, as far as Spike was concerned, and Xander turned back to Anya, troubled. Spike sighed and reached up to stroke his fingers through Xander's hair.

"All I know is that it's making Giles act weird. He hardly says a word, he _won't_ discuss the sales or the stock or the _money_ , which is just not right! I mean - how am I supposed to acquire new things if he won't look over the catalogues and approve my choices?" Anya shoved the now very crumpled letter into her jacket-pocket, scowling. "I know he only does it to humor me but it's big part of our working relationship! I pretend I care about his choices and he pretends he has any control over what I buy. It's a perfect system and it's all coming crashing down around me! I think Giles is going to leave." 

At this point, Anya burst into tears and they all stared at her. After a moment Xander moved a little closer and patted her knee, and Oz laid his arm over her shoulders. They both tried to calm her down, but Anya just buried her face in her hands and wailed. Spike fished out a smoke and lit it, and then took out his flask.

_*Oz, what…?*_

_*Dunno. She's all - wigged….*_

Spike uncapped his flask and took a long drink, then he stepped in front of Anya and tapped her gently on the head. "Here, pet, have a snort." Anya shuddered and lifted her head, looking up at Spike with swollen eyes.

_*Spike!*_

_*Best cure for hysterics, love.*_

"Oh God, I really _need_ to get drunk." Anya grabbed the flask and tipped it up, gulping whiskey like water and Spike grinned in admiration. After a moment she lowered it and wiped her mouth. "Drake asked me to marry him."

"What!?" Double chorus from Xander and Oz, and Spike merely took the flask back and took another hit.

"Oookay... We really need to talk. What say we hit the Bronze and get comfortable, huh?"

_*Splendid idea, pet. Knew there was a reason I loved you.*_

_*You and me both,*_ Oz added, and Xander laughed, helping Anya down from the tomb. 

 

"Spill. Why do you think Giles is going to leave and what about Drake?" Xander put Anya's Highball down in front of her, and put three beers down for everybody else. They were in a far back corner, as private as you could get at the Bronze, and Anya took a long drink and then sighed.

"Okay. About Giles. He's just acting so...nervous, all the time. Like he's hiding something." Beside him, Spike snorted and Xander reached out blindly and put a hand on his knee.

"Well, did you think he might be trying to hide that _letter_? Or maybe - trying to figure out how to keep this Rayne bloke from coming after him?" Spike tipped his beer up and took a long drink and Anya matched him.

"Maybe. But - it's more like...like he's planning something he knows we won't like. It's really very irritating."

"I don't think Giles would just leave, Anya. I mean - even if Ethan Rayne were coming back here, I think he'd - he'd stick around. That guy was never a match for Giles before. Probably he's just worried that if we find out, we'll be - upset."

"Or he's too far gone to act normal." Xander looked over at Oz and sighed, and nodded slowly.

"Yeah. Maybe so. He -" _*Drinks at work,*_ Oz thought, and they all sat in silent contemplation of that for a moment while Anya shredded her napkin.

_*Maybe that's what he's hiding. We'll - go see him. Something. Okay?*_ Spike's enthusiasm was minimal, but he silently agreed, sighing. Xander squeezed his leg gently in thanks. Spike's own free hand slithered over and did the same, resting comfortably on his thigh.

"Okay, Anya - tell us about this marriage thing." Anya wadded her napkin up and tapped her fingernails on her glass.

"You guys know Drake, right?"

"Well - sorta." Xander glanced at Spike, who shrugged, and at Oz who nodded. "I mean, we've all met him but - you don't bring him around much." Drake was a med student Anya had met while visiting Joyce in the hospital. He _seemed_ nice, and Spike had certified him human, but he was as clueless as the rest of the citizens when it came to the Hellmouth.

"Well, of course not! The last thing I need is for him to see some sort of demonic hanky-panky or have Willow loose some weird spell on him that turns him into a goat or something. I'm _trying_ to live a _human_ life."

"Should probably move away from here then, ducks," Spike said, draining the rest of his beer.

"Yes, I probably should. But I'm making a lot of money here and I'm - I'm happy. I have friends - I have a family, sort of. It's comforting." Anya took another drink and dabbed at her eyes with a fresh napkin. Her mascara had run and she leaned over at Oz's gesture and let him tidy it for her. "Thanks, Oz. Anyway, after all that mess with Glory, when I got hurt and Buffy got dead, I started thinking. I'm _mortal_ now! All my squishy innards are very vulnerable! And my chances of being hit by a car or a bolt of lightning or a - a falling airplane engine are - well - _disturbing_."

_*Airplane engine, pet?*_

_*Donnie Darko, remember?*_

_*Oh, right.*_ Spike snorted softly and lit a cigarette, and Xander focused on Anya again.

"Okay, so - I get that you're worried about - being mortal. But - what's that have to do with Drake and getting married?"

"Xander! I'm a Vengeance Demon! Former Vengeance Demon. I _know_ what men are like. I know how they try to justify their actions and - and make excuses. I know _exactly_ how low and despicable and conniving they can be." Anya gulped the last of her drink and raised her hand, signaling a waitress with a jangling of bracelets.

"But, Anya -"

" _Don't_ try to deny it, Xander! You men are all alike. Tell somebody you love them, and that you want to spend forever with them and then - a nice piece of ass walks by and it's _'C'mon, nobody can see us up on the roof of the Magic Box.'_ "

There was a long pause and Xander turned slowly to look at Spike, who looked back with the wide eyes of a Japanese manga character. _*You **told** her-*_

_*Well, not exactly -*_

"Except they can _hear_ you up there, and really Xander, did you think _nobody_ would notice -"

"Right, okay, stop." Xander took a gulp of beer and glared at Oz, who was laughing helplessly into the bowl of free popcorn. _*Oh God.*_

_*Yeah, that's what you said -*_

_* **Oz**.*_ Xander leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes. "Anya...do you love Drake?" He sat up and tried to ignore the steady creep of Spike's hand from thigh to groin.

"Well -I think I do. I mean - he makes me feel all warm and...safe and...real. But what if it's not? Real, I mean?" Anya took her fresh drink from the waitress and downed a huge swallow. "What if - if he's just stringing me along?"

"Why would he do that?" Xander put his hand on Spike's to keep it from wandering higher. Spike gave him a sly, sideways glance and started to knead the muscle there. Xander twitched.

"Well, I don't know! Why do men do any of the things they do? I'm starting to wonder if being gay is the answer." Anya bolted the rest of her drink and looked sadly down into the empty glass.

_*Don't even go there,*_ Xander thought, and Spike smirked at him and looked around for the waitress. "I'm sorry, Anya - I really can't help you on the Drake-thing. You either love him or you don't and - you're the only one who _really_ knows."

Anya held her glass up as Spike's tissue-thin patience shredded and he stood up, heading for the bar. "Get me another, 'k, Spike? That's the lamest advice _ever_ , you know." Anya glared at Xander and he recoiled ever so slightly.

"Uh - sorry. Maybe Oz has some sort of Zen thing to tell you." Anya trained her glare on Oz, who coughed and took a second sip of his beer.

"Anya...." There was a long pause while Oz contemplated his inner Buddha or something. Even Spike had paused, waiting. Finally, Oz looked up at her. "I've got nothin' here. Sorry."

Anya rolled her eyes. "Jesus, you guys are useless. How is it that you're all so - so _happy_? You don't have a clue."

"It's the amazing sex, love," Spike said, and eeled away through the crowd, heading for the bar. Xander felt himself slowly blushing under Anya's frankly speculative gaze.

"Xander -"

" _No_. Whatever it is, no."

"Oz -"

"Anya?" The werewolf looked steadily at her, laughter and fondness in the link.

" _Is_ the sex amazing?"

"Yup."

Anya reached over and picked up Oz's beer - took a long sip. "The sex with _Drake_ is amazing. He gives me absolutely wonderful orgasms."

"Here's to Drake," Xander mumbled, tipping his beer towards Anya just a little and then taking a hasty swallow.

"Yeah...." Anya sighed happily, staring vaguely into space with a small smile lifting the corners of her mouth. She looked -

_*Looks happy. Think this guy is the one?*_

_*Might be,*_ Oz shrugged, and then his eyes flashed to something over Xander's shoulder and Xander felt a sudden flare of irritation in the link from Spike.

"What is it?" Xander asked, turning, and there was Spike, stalking back over to them with a bottle of whiskey and some shot-glasses, and there was -

"Hello, Scoobies," the Buffybot said.

 

"And that's 'nother thing," Anya said. She was perched up on a stool at one of the little tables near the pool tables, and she's shed her windbreaker and was attracting admiring glances from the college-boy crowd. Xander had to admit that in her low-rise jeans and baby-tee, she looked pretty hot.

_*Hot as me?*_ Spike made an exaggerated move at the pool table, leaning over a little further than necessary to make his shot and Xander let his gaze wander over the lean lines of shoulder, rib, buttock and thigh.

_*Nothing's as hot as you, love.*_ Spike smirked to himself and cocked his head at the table, studying his next shot. The 'bot stood to one side, frowning.

"Don't I get to play?"

"Still my shot, innit?" Spike lined up another and the 'bot watched avidly.

" _Xander!_ " Anya brought her hand down hard on the table and Xander jumped a little and turned back to her.

"I'm sorry - what were you saying?"

"I was _saying_.... Willow."

"Willow?" Xander resisted the urge to scan the crowd. Oz came back from a bathroom break, hand trailing over Xander's shoulder and arm as he passed, settling onto the stool next to Anya.

"Yes, _Willow_. Your little witchy friend. She's been acting weird, too." Anya poured out two shots and looked over at Spike.

"Hey! Spike! C'mon and drink this." She'd been matching Spike shot for shot and Xander was frankly amazed at her head for liquor. Spike was delighted. Oz had stopped after his first beer and was on water now, and Xander had been nursing his second along for the past hour.

_*More fun to drink with somebody.*_

_*Sorry, Spike, I'm just not a shots-doin' kinda guy.*_

"Don't care," Spike murmured, slipping up behind him and kissing the side of his neck. _*You're a vampire-doin' kinda guy. That's better.*_ He reached around and grabbed his glass - downed it with a twist of his wrist at the same moment that Anya did. They both smacked their glasses down and Spike curled around Xander for a whiskey-sour kiss. Somehow, Xander mused, closing his eyes and giving in to Spike's strong, cool mouth - somehow, whiskey tasted _good_ when it was mixed with Spike.

_*You taste good too.*_ Spike broke the kiss and smiled at him - then whirled around at the _clack_ of pool balls rebounding off each other.

"Hey! That's not your shot!"

"But I haven't _had_ a shot. It's boring to just watch." The 'bot pouted and Spike strode over to argue with it as Xander smirked. Spike couldn't win with the 'bot, because its logic was so convoluted - and its _gaps_ in logic so bizarre - that arguments ended up a Gordian knot of cross-purposes and confusion. But Spike liked any sort of fight he could get.

"What about Willow?" Oz was saying, and Xander turned back to Anya.

"She's been at the shop a _lot_. And not in a good 'here let me help you make money' way. She digs around and gets into Giles' 'special' books and bugs me about weird herbs and stuff. She says she wants to do up some spells that'll help with patrol and I told her - you guys can patrol just fine. Giles doesn't really notice 'cause he, you know -" Anya made a sort of tipping-up-a-glass gesture and Xander sighed. Giles' drinking wasn't exactly out of hand, but it _was_ worrying.

_*Need to stop it.*_

_*Not as bad as it seems, love*_ Spike thought, and under that was the thought - and a _legitimate_ thought - that Xander's concern was colored by his own childhood experiences. _*He's more grown-up then they'll ever be. No need to...make any accusations just yet.*_

_*It's not good, though,*_ Oz interjected, and Xander was grateful that Oz agreed with him. He had the sneaking suspicion that Spike would rather leave the Watcher to his own devices, despite the truce they'd managed. But he couldn't - _wouldn't_ \- do that to Giles. He cared for the man more then he'd ever thought he would, and the past year had forged a bond.

_*Know I'll do whatever you want,*_ Spike grumbled.

_*I know. Love you.*_

The 'bot bent over the pool table and lined up a shot - drew back and drove the cue forward with a vengeance and the cue ball flew through the air and crashed into a pitcher of beer. As beer and glass went everywhere, the three boys whose drinks and jeans had just been ruined surged up, furious. The 'bot watched them approach, its head a little to one side. Spike stepped in front of the advancing trio.

"New to the game, mates - doesn't know her own strength."

"I've got _glass_ in my hand, you jerk! Somebody is gonna pay for the beer _and_ for my trip to the ER!" The boy was at least eight inches taller than Spike, and built like a truck.

Spike grinned up at him and popped a cigarette out of his pack - lit it. "She'll say she's sorry, maybe." Spike's grin was feral, his body seemingly at ease, leaning on his pool cue. But Xander could feel the gleeful anticipation. He reached over and grabbed Spike's duster.

"Well, fuck. Let's move up to the catwalk, huh Anya? Stuff's gonna get messy down here."

"What?" The shots seemed to be catching up with Anya finally and she looked bleary - ready to pass out.

"On second thought - why don't we get you home?" Oz slipped off his stool and caught Anya under the arm as she swayed. There was a crash and Xander looked back over at Spike, who had just tossed truck-boy into a table full of similar boys. They all sprawled and rolled and gaped, and then were up and swarming towards the vampire _en masse_. Spike flicked his cigarette aside and launched himself straight into them. The 'bot just watched, her 'harm no humans' programming holding true.

_*Spike! Jeez.*_

_*Go on up, pet. Be done in a bit.* *Chaos malice olderthan*_ in the link as the demon roared and surged to the surface, although Spike deliberately kept his human face on. Oz was leading Anya away and Xander hurried to catch up, fighting the lemming-like flow of patrons who were swarming to watch the fight. He dug his keys out of his pocket and handed them over.

"We'll be home soon. You need any help?"

"Nah, we're fine." Oz took the keys and grinned - caught Anya as she stumbled and sketched a little wave at Xander. Xander grinned back and watched them go out - bounded up the stairs and leaned there on the railing, watching Spike whale on anything and everything in reach. Xander wondered how long it would take until Spike got bored. One way to make sure it wasn't _too_ long. _*You're so fuckin' hot when you do that. Like a dance. But….*_ Xander fed an image or three into the link. _*Like that kind of dancing better.*_

Down on the floor, Spike jumped up onto the pool table and kicked someone in the head, and then glanced up at Xander, golden eyes unerringly finding him, human teeth flashing in a smirk. The momentary distraction was enough for some unlucky guy to get in a sweep of a pool cue behind the knees and Spike went down, rolling expertly and lashing out again with the steel-toed boot. _*Nasty little brat - that hurt. Gonna make you sorry.*_

_*Promise?*_ Another image or two - rope, this time, and Spike's straight-razor - and the fight was over in minutes. Spike grabbed the 'bot and shoved her towards the door, whispering something urgently in her ear and she nodded and strode out. Xander met Spike at the bottom of the stairs and Spike grabbed him and kissed him _hard_ \- drew blood with a sharp nip and scratched his nails down Xander's back.

"Let's get you home then," Spike whispered, and his eyes and the link promised that Xander would be pretty damn sorry, in the best possible way, for most of the night. Xander held out the duster for him to slip on and smoothed the shoulders - snaked his arm around Spike's waist.

"Let's," he agreed.

They didn't make it home right away, though. Xander couldn't keep the lingering worry and speculation about Giles out of his mind and Spike finally gave in.

"All right, love - let's go over and see what the bloody Watcher's up to, shall we?" Xander's abstracted look flashed immediately to a smile and Spike couldn't help but pull him into a quick, hard hug and kiss. _*Love that, that smile. Just for me. Love you.*_

_*Love you too. Thanks, Spike….*_ "You'll make it up to me," Spike murmured, quick nibble of teeth over the claim scar and Xander shivered, smiling. They changed direction and walked on to Giles' place, and Spike lit up as they came to the edge of the parking lot. There was something...different. Xander slowed, watching him.

"What is it?"

"I dunno, it's -" _*Something...Ripper's doing some mojo maybe, or....*_ The feeling was like little tendrils of heat - of cobweb fire - and it shivered over Spike's skin and made the hairs on his neck stand up. The demon wanted _out_ and Spike let it, concentrating. Beside him he could feel Xander tensing as the sensation translated through the link. The hyena stirred as well, on guard and nervous. Xander's blunter senses picked it up on their own a moment later and he stopped walking completely.

"That's -"

"That's warding magic. Only whoever's doing it is -" _*Sloppy*_

_*Yeah. Not in control*_ They advanced cautiously and the sensation got stronger as they approached Giles' place; ratcheting up to the distinctly unpleasant feeling of being attacked by brambles, or maybe bees. Xander was fighting the hyena - it wanted to attack something or run - and the demon wasn't doing much better.

_*Fuckin' bloody magic-users, **this** is why I hate this shite.*_ Spike pounded on Giles' door, snarling, and just managed to resume his human face when the lock rattled and Giles peered out at them through a six-inch crack.

"Spike. And Xander? What are you two doing here? It's late."

"What in bloody hell -" Spike snapped, but Xander's hand on his arm stopped him and he subsided, smoking furiously.

"Giles, we wanted to talk to you about something. It's - kind of important."

"I really can't talk at all right now, Xander. It would be - be much better if you came by in the morning." Giles started to shut the door and the thin thread of restraint snapped. Spike surged forward and jammed his foot in the door - shouldered it open, nearly clocking the Watcher in the face with the edge of the door.

"Don't be playing silly buggers, Watcher. We can feel whatever the hell you're doing in here."

Giles gave ground, scowling, and Xander came tentatively in behind Spike, shutting the door. "Damnit, Spike, get out! This is none of your business -"

"Ripper?" The voice was cracked - weak - and Giles snapped his mouth shut and glared at them - turned to look up the stairs.

"It's all right, Ethan. Just - just some -"

"Just his bloody brothers in arms, eh, Watcher? Oi! Show yourself!"

_*Spike, come on!*_ Xander's hand was under the duster, rubbing at the small of his back and Spike tried to calm down. But the magic was making him - _*darkspace no way out can't **trus** them hide hide hide*_ in stuttering jolts that were making him lose his equilibrium and his control.

_*Spike! Stop - safe, you're safe, calm down - I'm here, I'm here, Spike - calm calm....*_

Spike turned blindly and groped for Xander - seized shirt and bicep in a trembling grip and just _held on_ , his forehead to Xander's shoulder. _*Tell him shut it down - fuck, please -*_

Xander was saying something, rapid and urgent, the soldier getting in control and telling Giles in no uncertain terms what to do. After a bit - and Spike couldn't tell how long it took - the sizzling nastiness of the ward seemed to alter - to twist into something else - and abruptly Spike and Xander were _inside_ it, rather then battering against it and the discord vanished. Spike straightened slowly, shuddering, and Xander was rubbing the back of his neck gently, holding him close and murmuring in his ear. He could hear the Watcher upstairs somewhere, and he opened his eyes _*when did I close them?*_ and looked at his boy.

"All right now?" Xander asked, and Spike nodded uncertainly.

"Guess so. Fuckin' mojo -"

"Spike - I could feel it too, but it wasn't - it wasn't so bad. Why did that happen?"

Spike unclenched his fist from Xander's shirt - rubbed his hand over his face. "I - dunno. Felt like...like when Glory did that mind-eating thing. Like - when Glinda-witch was all - upset. Felt like that."

Xander's eyes were wide with anxiety and the link held fear - held a long note of worry and _question_ that was distinctly Oz and Spike shook his head and looked at Xander. 

"Better - better call the wolf. Dunno if he'll hear us good enough. Tell him it's okay." Xander slid his hand around a little, so his thumb could feather lightly over Spike's cheek, and Spike leaned into that caress for a moment.

"Okay. I'll call him. You sure you're okay?"

"Yeah. Okay now." Spike nodded and Xander finally moved over to the phone. As he dialed the number and then talked quietly to Oz, Spike pulled out his flask and drained it.

_*Fucking mojo...fucking hell-bitch, what'd she **do** to me? Damnit....*_

A noise from above made him look up and there was the Watcher, his face a mask of rage. And there was - somebody else. Skeletally thin, dark-haired, dark eyes sunk deep into their sockets. Some trousers and an oxford shirt of the Watcher's hanging off of him.

"William the Bloody, I presume?" the man said, in that wavering, smashed-glass voice.

"Ethan Rayne," Spike said back, lifting an eyebrow. 

"My fame precedes me, I see." The other man leaned heavily on Giles as they came slowly down the stairs and Spike settled onto one of the Watcher's bar stools. Xander hung up the phone and they watched in silence as the two got to the bottom of the stairs and paused for a moment so that Ethan could rest. Giles' mouth was set in a thin, tight line that spoke volumes about his mental state. His eyes were so utterly cold and furious Spike felt the demon rising to the challenge and crushed it back. But his hands on the other man's arm and back were gentle and sure, and he guided Ethan to a seat in a padded chair. Ethan sat with a sigh of relief and Giles patted his shoulder and then moved briskly into the kitchen, getting the kettle.

"Since I doubt very much you two will just go away, I'm going to make tea. And I don't want to hear a word out of either of you until we've all had a cup. Is that clear?"

"Sure, Giles," Xander breathed, and Spike hunted out a cigarette.

" _No_ bloody smoking, Spike."

"It's smoke or talk, mate. You choose." Giles shot him a frustrated glare, but then shook his head and turned back to assembling the tea-things, and Spike lit up.

"So it was _you_ that destroyed the Initiative, then," Ethan said, and the smile that lifted the corners of his mouth was every bit as malicious as the one that Spike wore.

"How on earth -? That's ridiculous, Ethan -" Giles sputtered in confusion, but Ethan held up a trembling hand, and Xander could see a ring of scars around his thin wrist - a deep wound that had healed badly, and not very long ago.

"Was easy, mate. I had - this bloke make up a spell for me. Loosed it on the bastards the last time they were in town." Spike was pacing restlessly and he made a sudden dive for the kitchen, slamming cabinets, and coming back into the living room in triumph, a bottle of scotch in his hand.

"Spike, damnit, that's -"

"I'll buy you another Giles, okay? Please?" Xander tried to make Giles understand, without saying anything, that Spike was about to go off the rails and anything that calmed him down would be a relief. He didn't know if it was the ward-magic still, or simply Ethan Rayne, who projected an air of seething _wrongness,_ but where his own nerves where on edge Spike's were - _*Calm down, love, please? We'll get out of here soon, I promise.*_

_*Sorry, love, sorry, sorry,*_ Spike perched on a stool and took a huge swallow of the scotch - eyed the bottle and took another while Giles grit his teeth.

" _How_ did you manage to wipe out the Initiative in _Brazil_ , Spike?" Giles asked, his voice thick with skepticism.

"It was a fetch. It was infected. A bit of mojo'd virus, so there wouldn't be any way to fight it. Sent the fetch in and anybody it touched, they got it. Then - just a matter of time. They passed it on to the rest, like bloody dominoes, didn't they? But you -" Spike looked at Ethan, who bared his teeth in a parody of a smile. Spike hissed, the demon flickering out and back, and Ethan leaned away a little. "You weren't infected, were you? Mage like you -"

"I was, actually - which is why I haven't - recovered, as well as I should. I was fairly weak when I got sick, so it was difficult for me to fight it. But once the soldiers and doctors were so ill that their....work....was halted, I recovered enough equilibrium to…. Well, not to cure myself, because I wasn't _that_ strong, but to engineer an escape. Did you know, the local demon population found out about what was happening there? They got into the installation in the final days. It was -" The man paused, and Xander shivered at the look of pure hatred and vicious satisfaction that crossed his face. "It was quite delightfully chaotic. There was even a vampire there - a most extraordinary creature, called herself Drusilla. She was quite - fascinating."

Spike perked up, grinning. "You saw Dru? She said she knew about what happened...what, she came in there?"

"Oh my, yes. Seemed a few of her - get had been captured, and she wanted them back. I'm afraid they were quite useless at that point. She drained them instead. She told me - she was going up to the City of Angels - that she had someone to find. Did she come here?"

"Oh, yeah. Had a little talk. She's gone off now, though," Spike drank again and Xander watched the emotions on Giles' face - horror and anger warring with what Xander was pretty sure was years of Watcher training, that wanted him to get out a journal and take notes.

"So you killed - hundreds of innocent people, Spike -"

"Innocent my ass, _Ripper_ , and I think you know the difference. After what they did to your mate, here, you still give a bloody damn? Oh - wait. _You_ turned your mate _over_ to them. That earn you some points with your fuckin' Council of Wankers?" Giles opened his mouth to say something, furious, and then he stopped, looking over at Ethan. The anger was still there, but so was something else - something wistful and sad and regretful, and Xander remembered what Giles had said, out in the desert. He'd never regretted _Ethan_ , just the things they'd got up to.

_*Should go, love. Leave them alone, get away from - whatever this is.*_

_*Fine by me.*_ Spike stood abruptly and Giles did as well, moving between him and Ethan. "Calm down, Watcher. Time we were gone."

"Giles -" Xander wasn't sure what to say, but he felt like he had to say _something_. He wanted to help Giles - he wanted to let him know it was okay. "Giles, we came by because we've been - worried about you -"

"Not me, mate,"

_*Spike.*_ " _I_ have, and Oz and Anya - probably the rest, although we didn't - didn't have time to really talk. You've just been - we just wanted to know if you were okay." Giles took his furious gaze off of Spike and turned it on Xander, where it softened to one of weariness.

"I'm - sorry, Xander. I don't mean to be so - harsh. But these past three months have been - been very hard and...now Ethan is here and I - I have some thinking to do. I may - leave Sunnydale." Xander stared at him - felt as if he'd been punched, and barely registered Spike's fingers brushing over his wrist and twining with his own.

"Leave? But - you can't! We - Giles -"

"It's really - not the time, Xander. I can't - talk about this right now. It's late and I'm tired and I know that Ethan is exhausted. Can we just - finish this later?" Suddenly Giles seemed - so old, and Xander noticed that there were lines of pain around his mouth - around his eyes. New grey in his dark hair that hadn't been there before.

_*God, he's old and he's - he looks so defeated. Damnit, when did -? Spike, let's go, we need to -*_

_*Be all right, pet....*_ Hard squeeze of Spike's hand in his and Xander blinked.

"All right. We'll go. But Giles - we _have_ to talk. You're not going to just - skip out of here. We all need to sit down and talk. I know it's hard - I miss her too. But - you're still needed here." Giles smiled faintly - reached out and squeezed his shoulder briefly, ignoring Spike's automatic snarl.

"I promise we won't slip away like gypsies in the night, Xander. But things are - different now. I'm not sure I can stay here...." He trailed away into silence and then shook his head - took a deep breath and dredged up something like a real smile. "Time for all this another day, eh? When Ethan is a bit stronger and we've all had time to think. We'll have a meeting, all right? At the Magic Box. Tell Anya I'm going to take a couple of days off and then - we'll talk about this."

"Okay." Xander smiled back at Giles, glad that the older man was willing to talk to them. "I'd do anything for you, to help. You know I would and Oz, too. And I can talk Spike around to your side, if you give me time." Xander grinned at the mental curses, but Spike didn't contradict him and the look of surprise and then astonished pleasure on Giles' face made up for the foul mood Spike was probably going to be in.

"Thank you, Xander. I - we appreciate that."

"As always, you take matters into your own hands. But this time your right, my dear Ripper. Your - trust - is appreciated…."

"I don't know if it's trust so much as - I'm pretty sure between Spike, me, and the rest of my pack - you wouldn't be able to do much." Xander let the hyena surface - let it stare into the fever-hectic eyes of the mage that huddled in Giles' chair and was rewarded by a flinch.

"I see. No matter. Not being hung from the nearest tree on sight is good enough for me. A pleasure to meet you both, I'm sure."

"Not fuckin' likely," Spike muttered, and he turned and walked to the door, towing Xander along in his wake, the bottle still clenched in his fist.

"Good night, Xander,"

"Yeah - 'night, Giles. Take care." They were out the door - up the stairs - half a block away before Spike's stride slowed to something approaching normal and he gave a great shudder, the demon to the fore for a moment and then gone.

"Bloody hell. That was fuckin' nasty."

"Yeah." Xander rubbed the back of Spike's neck, squeezing the muscles there that fairly crackled with tension.

"He wasn't like that, when he was selling us costumes. That was -"

"He was leaking magic all over the place. Lost some of his control, I guess, bein' sick. Or whatever they did to him. He smelled - off. Smelled sick." Sense-memory, in the link, and Xander wrinkled his nose. 

"I thought that was just - old-guy smell or something. Wonder if he'll get better?"

"Dunno. Don't much care." Spike drained the last of the scotch and sent the bottle winging end over end, to crash into a wall above a dumpster. "What I _do_ care about is a promise somebody made to me, earlier tonight." Spike looked over at Xander, eyes half-shut and his mouth curling in a leering sort of smirk and the _*want need **mine** *_ that slammed into the link left him breathless - sent a giddy flush of heat over him. He felt himself hardening and Spike yanked him close - threaded fingers through his hair and pulled his head to the side. "Gonna keep your promise?" he whispered, lips and tongue and teeth just feathering over Xander's neck, and Xander grabbed belt-loop and buttock and jerked Spike hard against him.

"Fuck yeah, I'm keepin' it,"

"Good," Spike murmured, and bit. He barely took any blood at all, but Xander's arousal spiraled upwards like a rocket and Spike licked a quick path up his neck - grabbed his hand again and pulled him into a jog.

"Let's go then, love - time's a' wasting."

"Right with you," Xander said, and they headed home, leaving the worries and the troubles of their visit to Giles behind, for the night. _*But it'll still be there tomorrow. Life on the Hellmouth just doesn’t get any easier.*_


	4. Exposed

_*Another meeting at the Magic Box. I think I've had about enough of these.*_ Xander sat in his truck, looking unenthusiastically out at the shop. He could see Anya inside, and Willow bent over a book.

_*I know, love,*_ Spike thought, and Xander pulled his key out the ignition. Spike had been here for half the day, helping Anya wrestle some stock around and keeping Dawn entertained when she got out of school. He was pleased with his new freedom to roam Sunnydale via the tunnels and sewers, and Xander had asked Tara to put a warding spell on the underground entrance down in their cellar, just in case.

_*Wonder what Giles will say? Do you think - he won't bring Ethan, will he?*_

_*Might do.*_ Spike came out of the training room and walked as close to the windows as he could, staying back from the last, slanting light of the setting sun. _*Come in, love. Miss you.*_

_*Yeah...coming.*_ Xander slid out of the truck and locked it, then went slowly inside. Spike slipped his arm around him and kissed him and his mouth was warm and sweet from the cherries he and Dawn had been sharing.

_*She can get the stone right into the bin, 'bout every time.*_

Xander broke away from him, laughing. "Is _that_ what you spent all afternoon doing, teaching Dawn how to spit cherry pits?"

"I got her to admit that Siouxsee can sing. We read some, too." Spike's tone was aggrieved but his eyes danced with laughter and Xander had to pull him in for another kiss.

_*Taste good. Have to get some of those for home.*_

_*Mmmm...yeah....*_ The link went X-rated and Xander scratched his nails down Spike's back - pulled away again as the doorbell jangled. An older woman and her daughter edged around the two, eyeing them with something that looked like disgust and Xander felt the blush coming over his face.

"Can't wait to get you home," Spike said, loud and clear, and the woman jumped a little and shepherded her daughter away. Xander tugged at Spike's waistband and they both walked down the short flight of steps to the table where Willow was scowling over a thick book. Its pages were spotted with black spots of mildew and she handled them with the tips of her fingers.

"This is so gross. Giles needs some sort of - of air-tight box for these books. Or one of those rooms like they have in those cigar shops? Oh! Maybe we could make an air-tight bubble around one of the bookshelves...." Willow stared off into space, obviously contemplating some sort of spell and Xander settled uneasily next to her.

_*Probably suck us all into a vacuum or something,*_ Spike grumbled, and Xander grinned at him.

"Can you two please not engage in foreplay during business hours?" Anya scolded, coming out from behind the counter. "As a rule, Magic Box customers are open-minded and tolerant, but we still get the occasional anal-retentive homophobe." Behind her, the woman who'd given them the eye stiffened and shot a narrow-eyed glare at Anya. The ex-demon, oblivious, turned around and smiled brightly. "Hello! And how can I help you spend your money today?"

Spike snickered as she bustled away, herding her customers towards the other end of the shop. He leaned on the back of Xander's chair, his hands in Xander's hair with that familiar, comforting touch that Xander loved best. He sighed and smiled, feeling his eyes close just a little, and Willow shot a considering look at him.

"Do you know why Giles wanted to have a meeting, Xander?"

"Hmmm? Oh - not...not really, Willow. Why?"

"Just wondering. He hasn't been around much lately. I tried calling him yesterday but he wasn't answering... Do you think he's all right?"

"I - think he's fine, Willow. I mean - this has all been pretty hard on him but I think he's...getting better."

"You mean, getting over Buffy being dead."

Xander sat up at that and looked at Willow, who had an odd expression on her face - something between anger and excitement. "I don't think he's - well, maybe he is, Willow, but -"

"Man has a right to live his life, Red. He can't be in mourning forever."

"What do you know about it? You didn't even _care_ when she died -"

"Of course he did!" Dawn stood in the doorway to the training room, her expression one of shock and anger. "He didn't cry or - or make a scene but he was sad!"

"Dawn - I'm sorry, I didn't mean to upset you." Willow's look was pleading, but then she glanced back at Spike and it hardened. "But Spike -"

"Don't finish that, witch." Spike's voice was cold - very soft - and Xander reached back and found Spike's hand - gripped it fiercely.

_*Don't, don't - Spike-love, don't….*_

"Or what, Spike? You'll - you'll _bite_ me?"

The hiss that came from behind him made Xander go cold and he stood up fast. "Guys -"

"I won't touch you, witch - you're Xander's and you’re the Bit's and they come first. But you're pushing them away with your...jealousy."

Willow's eyes went wide, but her face flushed a dull red, and Xander winced inside. _*Fuck, he might be right....*_ The bell jangled - someone coming in or the customers fleeing, Xander couldn't tell

" _Jealous?_ I'm not - not jealous of _you_ , Spike. I just don't trust you! None of us should. I don't care what Xander says he can see in you - you're just a demon! Buffy _never_ -"

Dawn was striding over from the training room, her mouth open in shock but her hands bunched into fists. _*anger sorrow*_ in the link, strong and sharp.

"Willow? What's wrong, honey?" It was Tara that had come in, bag of books over her shoulder and an expression of confusion on her face. Willow turned sharply at her voice and seemed to slump, deflating.

"Oh, Tara, I - I just.... Things are just so.... They wouldn't be like this if - if Buffy were here." Willow sank down into her chair, the tears finally flowing, and Tara stepped up to her, bending down and hugging her, whispering in her ear. She glanced up at the others, puzzled, and Xander shook his head - turned and shooed Spike and Dawn away, back to the training room. _*Anger*_ still, from Dawn, but it was fading, replaced with sorrow - with confusion.

"What the hell was _that_ about?" Xander asked once they'd gone into the training room. He turned a questioning look on Dawn and Spike. Spike just shrugged and crossed to where his duster was hung over the horse. He pulled out his cigarettes and lit up, and Xander looked at Dawn.

"She's just been - really on edge, lately. She thinks Giles is going to go back to England and - it's really bugging her." Dawn glanced over at Spike, _*hurt fear*_ in the link. She lowered her voice, but Xander knew Spike would still be able to hear her. "And she doesn't like me spending so much time at your house."

"Why fucking not? Nothing wrong with you coming round - you've got your own room an' all! What's that bloody girl thinking?" Spike bristled instantly and Xander sent calm through the link.

"What's wrong with you being at our house, Dawn?"

Dawn looked at the floor, her arms crossed tightly over her chest. "She says...that...I should spend more time with…."

"With what, Niblet? With her?" Spike had come up and put his hand on Dawn' back, rubbing gently, and Dawn glanced up at him, her eyes bright with tears.

"Don't get mad, Spike! I don't want you guys to fight, please? I _hated_ it when Mom and Dad fought and - you guys are the only family I have anymore and if you can't be friends I - I don't know what I'll do!" _*Fear*_ again, and something like panic, and Spike looked to be at a total loss, rubbing Dawn's back but glancing at Xander for some sort of help. He pinched his cigarette out, putting the butt in his pocket.

"It's okay, Dawn - I _promise_ that we won't fight," Xander said, shooting a _look_ at Spike. _*No fighting!*_ "Don't worry about what Willow said, okay? We'll talk to her about it. It's not your problem."

Dawn sniffed - rubbed the back of her hand over her eyes. "I just - she said I should hang out with...regular people." Spike's hand stopped its soothing motion and rage flared in the link, strong enough to bring the hyena up and out. Dawn was staring at Xander as he fought for control - fought the hyena back and grabbed Spike's arm as he strode past.

_*Spike - do **not**. You can't - do anything.*_ It was the demon that turned back, snarling, and Xander yanked him even closer - wrapped his arms around Spike and just held him. _*Don't, don't love - don't think about it, don't do anything. Dawn's freaking out, just calm down.*_

Spike's arms came up and hugged back, and the vampire put his face down into Xander's shoulder. _*Want **out** of here, love - want to go. So sick of this place, Xander, please....*_

Xander hugged harder, shocked. _Leave?_ That was something they'd never really talked about and now.... Xander saw Dawn's face - white, tear-streaked and miserable - and he held out an arm to gather her in. She came with a small sob and Spike freed an arm as well, holding her close.

_*Just pack the Bit up, get the wolfling….we don't have to be here, we can - teach her and...it's hurting her to be here, love, it's - hurting all of you. Let's just go, just -*_

_*How can we? Spike - I don't know….*_ There was just _*sorrow sorrow sorrow*_ from Dawn; a mix of things that just felt _sad_ , and shuddered through them both.

"Please don't be mad at Willow, Spike, _please?_ She's just - really upset about Buffy still, she doesn't - doesn’t mean it -"

Spike drew back a little, human again, laughing in a rather stilted way. "Now, poppet, don't you fret. Me and Red aren't mates but I won't do anything - _or_ say anything. I promise. Chin up, now. Meeting'll start soon, you don't want to be all - squishy, do you?"

Dawn sniffed, wiping her face - smiled at Spike. "Okay. Okay, I'm...thanks, Spike." Spike reached out and smoothed her hair, grinning at her, and she sniffed again. "I'm gonna go wash my face." Dawn smiled over at Xander as well and went across the training room to the bathroom, shutting the door softly. Spike _leapt_ , furious, and hit the heavy bag with fists and feet. It took him exactly three solid hits to send it crashing into the wall, the broken chain rattling, the thick leather split open and spilling out wads of filler. Spike stood over it, snarling, and delivered a final kick.

"Got it all out now?" They both spun around, startled by Oz's soft voice at the back door.

"Fucking witch...." Spike muttered, going for another cigarette and Xander gave Oz the details, fast through the link.

Oz frowned and walked over to the old couch, slumping down. "That seems a little...extreme," he said finally, and Xander had to laugh. He crossed over and flung himself down next to Oz, running his hands back through his hair.

"Jesus. It's all just - crazy."

"Did you mean it? About leaving, Spike?" Oz was looking troubled, and Spike sighed - came over and settled on the floor between them, leaning back so that Xander's leg on one side and Oz's on the other were pressed into his shoulders. _*Family*_ in the link, and _*pack*_ and for a moment they _all_ needed the contact.

"I've stayed places for longer. But this bloody place - it's bad luck for all of us. Bad memories. We don't _have_ to stay - nothing keeping us here, right? We can just go - Bit'd be over the moon to travel, all the stories I've told her...." Spike's voice trailed to silence, and Xander reached out and ran his knuckles up the back of Spike's neck - kneaded tense shoulders and Spike sighed.

"I think... Manny's son has a company, up in Seattle. He's told me if I ever want to relocate, I'd have a job just for the asking...."

"Seattle's a cool place. Good energy up there...." Oz added, and the three of them lapsed into silence. Xander bent over Spike, kissing his temple and forehead, resting their heads together for a moment.

"Listen.... I think Dawn would like to finish school here - finish with her friends. And I don't know if she'd really want to leave Tara and Willow for real...but - if Giles tells us he's leaving - if he really is going back to England, then…. We'll talk about it, okay?" _*All right, love? Is that - enough?*_

_*Never thought you'd even consider it, pet. It's more than all right.*_

_*You game, Oz?*_

Oz shifted on the couch - put his hand out and let it rest with Xander's on Spike's shoulder. _*Derio'd go. And I like to travel. Yeah, I'm game.*_ The surge of happiness and relief from Spike made Xander kiss him again, _*sorry*_ in the link, feeling bad that Spike had felt so - trapped.

_*Should have said something, love. Should have told us.*_

_*Didn't want you to be unhappy. Didn't want you to think you had to leave your friends.*_ There was an undercurrent of sadness to it all, though, because the three of them knew Tara would never come along. It would be hard, to leave part of the family behind if that's what they decided to do. They stayed like that until Dawn came out of the bathroom, smiling again and looking as if she'd never cried a tear, and then Spike got up and told her to get a stake and try a few moves - see if she remembered what he'd shown her earlier. He hit 'play' on the boom-box in the corner, wailing woman's voice pouring out and they started sparring. The look of intense concentration on Dawn's face made Xander smile, even as he felt a little pang of loss in his heart.

_*Looks like Buffy, when she does that.*_

_*Yeah, she does,*_ Oz agreed. They looked up when Tara came to the doorway. Spike and Dawn were too busy to stop, but Spike glanced at the blonde and gave a small nod to show he saw her.

_"thrown back again to drown_   
_kinder with poison_   
_than pushed down a well - or a face burnt to hell_   
_feel the cruel stones breaking her bones_   
_dead before born_   
_words fall in ruins - but no sound_   
_she's dying of your shame - she maimed by your paw_   
_he gives birth to swimming horses…."_

Xander caught a brief image from Spike; the singer, Siouxsee, up on stage, heavily lined eyes glaring out at the crowd, the press of bodies all around, smoke and alcohol and pot. Spike shot him a quick grin.

_*She's a looker, eh?*_

_*If you like that kind of thing,*_ Xander smirked. "Hey, Tara - is Willow okay?" He had to yell a little over the music and Tara skirted around the other two and joined him and Oz on the couch, looking tired.

"I think so. She's been - really on edge, the past couple of w-weeks. She's having a h-hard time dealing with...all this."

"Yeah.... How about you, Tara? You okay?" Xander touched the back of her hand gently and Tara smiled at him.

"I'm fine, Xander. I'm...it sounds b-bad to say it but Buffy wasn't my best friend. I'm not as - as torn up as W-willow…." The guilty look on her face made Xander want to hug her tight, and after a moment's thought he did.

"Hey - it's okay, Tara. Nobody expects you to just _stop_ , you know? You've got school and I've got my job..,. We've all got lives that have to go on. There's no - _right_ amount to miss somebody."

Tara hugged back - smiled over at Oz, who was nodding silently. "I know, Xander. I really do, but sometimes Willow.... She's just so - up-upset. I don't know what to do about it." There was a long silence then, as the three of them watched Dawn and Spike, each sunk into their own thoughts. It did seem to Xander that Willow was taking Buffy's death the hardest. Dawn still had nightmares - still cried over Buffy - but she had come out of her long silence, and was more and more the Dawn they'd all known _before._

_*There's that 'before' again... Dawn's doing all right, really - we all are. Except for Willow and I just don't - don't know **why**. I miss Buffy...but she's gone. I can't change that.*_ Xander watched Dawn fake a punch and go low, getting Spike in the thigh and the vampire whistled, grinning.

"Good on you, Bit! That was great."

"But she was open on her left." It was the 'bot, standing in the doorway and looking faintly...displeased? Willow came in behind it and gave it a little push, motioning it towards the corner.

"What's - it doing here, Willow?" Xander asked as Spike and Dawn shrugged off the 'bots assessment and circled each other.

"Oh, she had a kind of - malfunction, last night. Got hit pretty hard in just the wrong place. I had to do some repairs. I programmed her to come and find me if anything goes wrong, and _that_ worked, at least. She just needs a little charging up before patrol tonight and I thought it would look good to have her leaving from here sometimes. Like - like she...Buffy...used to." Willow bit her lip and followed the 'bot to the corner where a heavy-duty power cable lay coiled. Willow popped the stomach-plate of the 'bot open and plugged her in, and the 'bot went still.

"So, think she'll be up for orientation next week at school?" Oz asked, and Willow started to answer him when the front door bell jangled. A moment later Anya put her head around the corner of the doorway.

"Giles is here. Time for our meeting."

"Okay then." Xander wasn't looking forward to the meeting, and he could feel the reluctance from Spike and Oz as well. Oz turned the music off and they all moved slowly into the front room, where Anya was just locking the door and turning the 'Open' sign around to 'Closed', frowning. She didn't like closing early. Giles was leaning on the display counter, looking worn out and uncomfortable, arms crossed over his chest. They all found places to sit - Tara and Willow at the round table, Oz and Xander halfway up the stairs with Spike right behind. Dawn chose to sit on the stairs too, and Anya went behind the counter again and started fiddling with receipts. Giles looked around at them all and then took a deep breath.

"I'm grateful that all of you could come here for this.... I'm - I have some very serious things to discuss." He paused and took off his glasses - rubbed his eyes. "I'm sure that all of you remember Ethan Rayne -"

"Oh! I remember him! He turned you into a demon, right?" Dawn looked pleased, and Willow smiled at her, nodding.

"Ah, well yes, yes he did, among other things.... And I - had the Initiative take him away."

"You did?" Dawn was wide-eyed, and Giles flinched from that a little, putting his glasses back on. 

"Yes I did, Dawn. At the time I - well, that's not important. What _is_ important is that.... That he got away from them."

"Oh, no! What - what should we do? Is he coming here? Do we need - some sort of spell to - to hold him or...or drain his magic, maybe?" Willow grabbed a book at random from the stack that always seemed to accumulate on the table, flipping it open. Xander saw the wince, when she spoke - the brief look of sorrow that crossed Giles' face.

"No, Willow, that won't be necessary. He...he's already here, and he's.... Well, he's really not a threat to any of us, right now."

"What do you mean?"

Giles sighed and rubbed his forehead with his thumb, looking exhausted. Spike's knee pressed into Xander's shoulder and he leaned back a little, shivering as cool fingers slipped into his hair. "The Initiative established a base in Brazil, after we destroyed the one here. They - took Ethan there. But a - but something happened, and that base was destroyed as well and Ethan managed to - managed to escape and make his way, over several months, back...here."

"Why here?" Tara asked softly, and Giles glanced at her.

"Well, I suppose here because - because we were friends, Ethan and I. He - he didn't have anywhere else to go." Behind him, Anya had stopped organizing her receipts and was looking at Giles with a thoughtful, considering expression.

_*Oh crap. I think Anya just figured something out. Think she'll keep her mouth shut?*_

_*Doubt it, pet.*_

"Okay, so, he comes all the way back here. What does that mean, though, Giles? You're not - not helping him, are you? I mean - after what he did -"

"What he did is - is in the past, Willow. What he did was nothing - _nothing_ \- compared to what the Initiative did to him."

"But he kidnapped Buffy and tried to feed her to that Eyghon guy! Or god, or demon, whatever! And - and he nearly got us all killed with that Halloween costume thing, and -"

"Yes Willow, I am _aware_ of these things. That's really not the point -"

"Seems like a pretty big point to me, Giles! I mean, he tried to kill us all and you're just - gonna be his friend again?"

Giles was pacing now, head down and a thunderous expression on his face, and he stopped short at Willow's words. " _Friend_. I haven't been his friend...for some time. But now - yes, now I'm going to try to be. I - I owe him that much, after what I did...."

"Giles -"

"Leave off, Red. Did you know, way back when me an Angel had a little run-in with some Nazis? They were collecting us - vamps, that is. D'you know why?"

"Recruiting you for help with the Final Solution?" Willow snapped, and Xander felt Spike stiffen - _felt_ the demon surge, and Spike ruthlessly push it away.

"No, you daft bint. They wanted to try and _control_ demons. They wanted to cut open their brains and make them into an army. Sound familiar? _That's_ where the soddin' Initiative got its ideas from. The bloody Krauts. That's what Rupert turned his mate over to. All that meticulous Nazi framework embellished and improved upon by fuckin' Yankee ingenuity."

Willow had gone pale, and Tara was holding her hand, looking between them. Giles had put his hand to his face, as if to hide his expression or to stop himself from speaking, and they all sat in an uncomfortable silence for a long moment.

"So what exactly does all this mean, Giles? Your friend is here and you feel all guilty, as you should, but what does that mean to _me?_ " Anya came out from behind her counter, looking anxious and annoyed at the same time and Giles let out a strangled sort of laugh.

"Yes. Thank you for once again getting straight to the point, Anya. What it means to you - to all of you, really, is that.... I'm going back to England."

"What?"

"Oh, Giles -"

"Leaving?" Willow, Dawn and Anya all started talking at once. Tara looked sadly at Willow and bowed her head.

_*Guess demon-girl was right. He's off with his mate across the pond.*_

_*Nazis?*_

_*Yeah - remember?*_

Xander closed his eyes, letting the past surface - was jolted out of that memory - out of the stale, dead air of a dying submarine and Angel's furious face as he punched a German soldier - by Willow.

"Giles, you can't leave! You really can't! I mean - we need you here now that - now that Buffy's gone! How are we gonna figure out prophecies and apocalypses and - stuff like that? How are we gonna figure out if Buffy - if she went -"

"I _really_ cannot have that discussion again, Willow!" Giles actually _shouted_ and they all froze, staring at him. He stood glaring at Willow furiously, and she glared back, her mouth set in a thin line, her eyes dangerously hard.

"We _need_ to have that discussion! We need to talk about it and figure it out! We can't just leave Buffy -"

"Enough!" That was _Ripper *darkman demonkiller*_ and they _all_ felt the shockwave of power that flashed out from Giles. Spike hissed and Oz's eyes flared black, the wolf struggling for dominance. The hyena reared up as well, fight or flight kicking in hard and only the combined efforts of both Xander and the soldier kept it from launching itself straight at Giles.

"What in bloody _hell_ is going on," Spike growled, and Giles shot a furious look at him.

"It's none of your damn business -"

"Yes it is! Well, it's not _Spike's_ business but the rest of them have a right to hear this!"

"Willow -"

"No, don't try to stop me." Willow shot to her feet, her hands twisting together as she agitatedly paced up and back behind Tara's chair. "When Buffy died - everything was _wrong_. She didn't die a natural death, she died _in_ the portal! And her soul - we can't _know_ where her soul is -"

"Yes we _can_. Natural or not, her soul is where it _ought_ to be - where it should be! We will not be performing some sort of - of _obscene_ hedge-wizardry in the hopes of scrying out her whereabouts!" Giles voice was trembling with tightly controlled rage but his eyes were like two pits, utterly void of emotion.

Willow flinched from the look he gave her, but turned to the others - to Dawn. "Don't you see? What if she's in some - some _hell_ dimension -" Dawn gave a choked cry, covering her mouth with her hand, and Spike was up, leaping over Oz and Xander, landing not two feet from Willow. He took her by the shoulders and let the demon out, his lips pulled back in a grimace of rage. Behind Willow, Tara stood up, her hand going out uselessly towards the two. When the vampire spoke, it was a sibilant, hate-filled whisper.

"You will _shut your gob_ right now, witchling, if you know what's good for you. How in _fuck_ could you say something like that in front of Dawn? If you _ever_ talk about the Slayer being anywhere but up with her mum and the fucking _angels_ I will personally rip out your tongue and feed it to the first fucking stray dog I find. _Do.You.Hear.Me._ " He gave her a vicious shake and Willow's mouth, which had dropped open snapped shut, and she jerked herself out of his grip.

_*Spike - fuck's sake-*_

"I've got things to fuckin' kill." Spike glared around the room - shook his head once at Xander and with a flick of his eyes indicated Dawn, who was crying silently behind him. Then he was gone.

 

_*Well, that didn't go well at **all** ,*_ Xander thought, as he and Oz headed out to patrol. They could feel Spike like a cruising shark, cutting through the night-time shoals of Hellmouth demons, cold and unstoppable. He and Oz had left Giles and Willow behind, both tight-lipped and silent, furious. Anya had called Drake and gone home after Giles had rather testily told her that he was leaving the shop in her hands and becoming a silent partner. She wanted to have 'celebratory taking-over orgasms', and Drake, apparently, was always obliging.

_*No - could have gone better.*_ Oz looked over at Xander with a small smile, and Xander shook his head. Dawn had tried to be stoic - had stopped crying and let herself be taken home - but they could feel her upset in the link, and Tara had pulled her close and led her inside the Summers' house, whispering comfort in deaf ears.

"What in hell - I mean, if Willow really thinks Buffy is in some - some hell dimension, then what does she think she can do about it? What - would be the point?"

"Maybe she thinks she could - get her out?" They both thought about that for a moment, and then Xander sucked in a sharp breath.

"No _way_ is she thinking about bringing her back! Not after what Dawn did... She is _not_ that crazy!"

"Really hope not," Oz muttered, distaste in the link. Xander shrank away from the idea with loathing - it was _wrong_ , to do something like that. To mess with someone's soul. As much as he hated Angel, the thought of his soul being jerked around, between heaven or hell or limbo on the whim of some pissed-off gypsy…. It wasn't _right_.

_*She's daft enough to try it, maybe.*_ Spike, somewhere down the street and off to the south, and Xander turned the truck at the next intersection.

_*No way. She - I know she's a little...casual about magic sometimes but she wouldn't mess around with stuff like that.*_

_*Better hope not,*_ Spike thought, and then the link rippled with surprise and gleeful interest.

_*What is it?*_

_*Bunch of demons - fuck, Hellions. What in hell?*_

Xander looked over at Oz, who was sitting up straight, looking back with a frown on his face. _*Spike, what d'you mean? What are Hellions?*_ Images, through the link. Demons in leather and chains, a convoy of motorcycles cruising through Sunnydale, heading roughly towards Willy's bar. And the knowledge of what they were; pirates, who come in and destroy - who take over, for a few days or a few weeks, and then move on when the town they've invaded is sucked dry.

_*They're pretty wild but they're not big-time. Usually stick to back-water places with no real defenses. Only reason they'd be here is if….*_

_*They found out about Buffy,*_ Oz finished, and Xander felt a wave of fear go over him.

_*Wolfling's right. I'm gonna see what the hell they're doing - make sure it's.... You get Tara and Dawn to our house. Tell her ward it - make it a fuckin' fortress. And get Giles and his mage over there - they need to be together. It's gonna take more magic than Glinda has to keep them out. And we need to have access to the Underground, just in case....*_

_*Is it really that bad?*_ Xander glanced behind him and swung the truck into a U-turn in the middle of the street, Oz braced against the dash.

_*Fuck yeah, love. If they know, then everybody knows. This place is gonna blow sky-high before daybreak. We've gotta be ready. Lock the house down. I'll be there soon.*_

Then he was gone and Xander flattened the pedal to the floor, pushing the truck as fast as it would go. "This just keeps getting better and better," he muttered, and had to smile when Oz belatedly fumbled his seat-belt on.

"Seattle's sounding pretty good about now," Oz replied, and Xander felt exactly the same. They drove on, heading for the Magic Box and hoping that Giles would still be there. This was going to be a long, nasty night.

 

Spike prowled the Sunnydale streets, watching the Hellions - do their thing. There were at least twenty, and they'd gotten into a kind of rhythm, going from store to store downtown. Not to the Magic Box yet, but getting there. He debated whether or not he'd defend the store but decided, with a snort of silent laughter, that he wouldn't.

_*Demon-girl'd probably get more money outta insurance, anyway.*_ The Hellions loved the smash-and-grab, but they weren't very neat and they weren't very thorough, and Spike had a pillowcase - liberated from a wash-line - that was gradually filling up with...bits. _*Never have too many movies, never have too much music, and that pawn shop out by the highway gives damn good prices.*_ On principle, Spike wouldn't do any smashing himself - that would smack of allying himself with the Hellions and traditionally, those demons and vamps didn't get along. But he'd take advantage of the chaos. Other Hellmouth dwellers were taking advantage as well, and the night was shaping up to be something like all right.

_*And the Watcher's mate is probably eating this like candy.*_

He'd followed Xander and Oz's progress through the link; getting Dawn and Tara from the Summers' house, going to Giles' flat and convincing _him_ to come, as well. The mage had looked fevered and a little out of it, but he'd grinned at Xander and asked him how 'the beast' was faring. Xander had been hard-put to stop 'the beast' from knocking him unconscious and Spike had told him, through the link, to shut his particular brand of 'come get me' down or he'd come over there and shut the mage down personally. Giles had proceeded to get the man drunk, which apparently blunted Rayne's abilities to project magic of any sort - at least, in the weakened state he was in. Which was a bloody good thing, in Spike's opinion, because the man was a fucking beacon to anyone with the slightest bit of magical sensitivity. And Hellions had _that_ in spades.

_*But Glinda-witch needs what Giles can give her - she's strong, but she's not as adept. And we might need that chaos-git in the end, if things get bad. He'd make good bait, at least.*_ There seemed to be a fight up ahead, and Spike strolled closer, trying to see. True to form, a number of the demons had lit fires - heaping up smashed store-front bits in the street, or filling trash barrels with scraps. The lurid firelight made the scene reminiscent of - well - a _lot_ of Spike's past, and for a moment he felt a twinge of nostalgia.

_*Fifty years from now, Xander won't care one way or another...show him a bit of what it's like to travel the world with a Master....*_ That thought made him grin, and he lit up a cigarette with a flourish. The Hellions were surrounding something now - chattering and laughing and Spike looked around - saw a high, deeply silled window just inside an alley. He jumped, hanging from the sill by one hand and jammed his pillowcase of loot up against the window for safe-keeping. Then he dropped back and sauntered up to the edge of the demon circle. If there was a fight to be had, he wanted to be in on it. What he saw made him stop and stare. The 'bot was in the middle of a circle of demons, looking a bit frazzled.

"I have to find Willow," the 'bot said, and the demons closed in. The 'bot managed to fight her way free of the demons and took off running, and with a roar the demons were after her, mounting up on their customized Harley's and zooming away up the street. Spike contemplated the situation for about five seconds before he grinned and took off running. The demons were following the 'bot, who was sticking to the sidewalk. If _he_ ran through _here_ \- and climbed _this_....

_*Perfect, yeah.*_ Spike leaped down onto the sidewalk and watched the 'bot and then the demons flash by. He stood in the middle of the street, waiting. One demon was a little behind - he'd had a moment's trouble getting his bike started - and Spike watched him coming up the street, engine wide open. The demon saw him, grinned nastily and aimed straight for him. Spike grinned back, and at the last minute leaped high into the air. The steel toe of his boot connected solidly with the demon's head and he flew backwards, skidding over the asphalt and crumpling against a light-pole. Blood welled out from under the still form and Spike laughed. He took a last drag off his cigarette and flipped it away - trotted over to the bike and righted it. It seemed all right - was still running, even - and he climbed aboard and kicked it into gear, following the now-distant sound of the rest of the demons.

_*What's going on, Spike?*_

_*Dunno. The 'bot's chasing after Red, so I'm gonna see what happens. She there?*_

_*No - not at home, nowhere. We can't find her. Tara's going to try a spell.*_

_*Right. Keep safe, love.*_

_*You're one to talk. Watch yourself, vampire-mine. There's a lot of them.*_

_*Just enough, pet.*_ Xander was laughing, but Spike could feel his worry - could feel Oz, who wanted to loose the wolf and come join him. But he was staying with Dawn, helping her calm her nerves with a dose of sugar and cheese. They'd cooked frozen pizzas and half-drowned her with soda, and she was starting to get mouthy with Rayne - asking pointed questions that the mage appeared to want to answer but that the Watcher wouldn't let him.

_*That's my girl,*_ Spike thought, grinning. The demons were on the outskirts of town now, headed towards…. _*Fucking woods? Breaker's Woods. What in hell is the witch doing out here? Or is the 'bot just fucked up....*_ The motorcycles were circling - tires spinning and faltering in the damp leaves and uneven terrain under the trees, and a couple had gone down, pinning their luckless riders beneath them. Spike charged ahead, bouncing heedlessly over the rutted track. Something - someone - was screaming.

_*That's not the 'bot - don't think she's got it in her...oh fuck.*_ It was Willow - it _had_ to be, and Spike revved the engine higher and broke through into a clearing. Four bikes were weaving a circle around the 'bot and Red, who was slumped on her knees, looking dazed. She had something cradled in her arms, and there was mud and blood smeared on her face. The bot was fighting but she'd obviously taken several hard blows already, and random sparks of blue electricity were sparking over her. A moment later, one Hellion drove straight into her and rode her down. He leaped off his bike with a roar of triumph and gathered the dazed 'bot up - slung her over his shoulder and climbed back on his bike. Spike drove his own bike straight into him, knocking them all to the ground. He leaped free of the wreckage and ran for Willow, snatching her up and jerking her unceremoniously towards the trees.

"No! Nooo, we have to go back!" Willow shouted, pulling against him, and he turned around and snarled into her face.

"If we go back you're most likely dead - or a bed-warmer for one of these boys. Want that? Time to _fly_ , pigeon."

Willow's eyes were wild, and she looked desperately back over her shoulder. "But - but Buffy -"

"What in _fuck_ are you talking about? The 'bot's knackered." Spike turned and jerked her to a stumbling run, diving into the trees in the hopes that the Hellions wouldn't be able to follow. Willow tripped and fell, sprawling, and something flew from her hand - hit with a _crack_ of shattering pottery against a tree-trunk.

"Oh no, no, _no!_ It can't be broken!" Willow scrambled towards the tree, groping the dimness for whatever she'd dropped and Spike leaned down and jerked her to her feet.

"We don't have _time_ for this, Red! What the fuck are you _doing?_ "

"The urn! Urn of Osiris, it's the last one, the last in the world -" Willow's eyes were full of tears and horror and pain, and Spike wanted to slap her - cold-cock her and toss her over his shoulder, get _home_ before something happened. He felt uneasy up here - looked around and took a sudden hard breath, finally recognizing where they were.

"What in _bloody hell_ were you doing up here, witch? Why are you at the Slayer's grave? What fucking idiotic thing were you _doing_ -"

_*Spike! Get out of there! Get home!*_ Xander and Oz both in the link, fear making them loud. Spike shook his head sharply. 

_*What is it? What's happening?*_

_*Don't know, but Ethan and - and Giles are - just get home!*_

Image, suddenly - the Watcher looking panicked, the mage grinning like a rabid dog, his eyes rolling up white in his head. _'Chaos is loose in the world, children! Something has happened - something has broken free. Better run!'_

The man looked demented, but even at one remove through the link Spike felt - afraid. There _was_ something - he turned and started to run, dragging Willow behind, letting the demon out and trying to pinpoint what it was he was sensing. He caught a whiff of wet earth - rot - but it was blotted out by exhaust from the bikes and the stink of the demons themselves, and he shook it off - plowed down the hill, crashing through underbrush and trying to get as many trees as possible between himself and the demons. 

The roar of the bikes faded after a bit, and he slowed warily, giving Red a breather. She was crying now, sniffling and coughing and gasping for breath and he finally stopped in the lee of an outcrop of stone, letting Willow sink down and crouching beside her.

"Now tell me what the fuck is going on, Red." Willow wiped her nose on her sleeve - looked up at him with red, streaming eyes and Spike had a sudden, horrified thought. "Were you - Jesus fucking _Christ_ , Red, tell me you weren't -"

"I had to do it, Spike! I h-had to! I couldn't leave her in some - some hell-dimension, I _couldn't_ -" 

Spike stared at the trembling, crying girl - stared while his mind ran furiously over and over everything he knew about…. "Resurrection. Bloody _hell_ , witch. You don't know what you've fucking done." 

Willow shook her head and pushed herself to her knees, shaking. "It doesn't matter. The urn - the urn's broken and - and those demons stopped me. I don't - it didn't work, Spike. I...failed."

"Be fucking glad you did." Spike stiffened suddenly. Something was _there_ , in the brush just behind him. Creeping stealthily towards them. He lifted his head, scenting, and almost gagged. Wet, moldering earth, the stink of corruption, of death. He spun, rising to his feet, ready to take on whatever was lurking. Green eyes stared at him from a tangle of filthy hair, a white, mud-streaked face. Rags of cloth were clutched around equally filthy shoulders, and bare feet and legs showed cuts and bruises. The reek of decomposition was so strong Spike pushed the demon away, and the figure swayed, staring at him.

"Slayer?" he whispered, and it - she - jerked and looked wildly around. Then she turned and was running, the rag of cloth - _*Burial shroud, oh **fuck** that's the quilt we wrapped her in *_ snagging on a bush and fluttering to the ground. It was streaked with fluids and dirt - crusted with rot and Spike shuddered, imagining Buffy waking in that filthy hole, waking surrounded by the rotting remains of the coffin and her own clothing and the mire of worms and beetles...waking _alone_....

"S-ssspike…? Spike, was that - w-was that -"

"Yeah. That was your Slayer, witch. Or what's left of her. _Fucking_ hell." Spike turned around and grabbed Willow - flung her unceremoniously over his shoulder and started to _run_ for all he was worth. _*Got to get home, got to...bloody hell, don't have a fucking clue. Is she - still herself? Is she even sane? You've outdone yourself with this one, Red...fuck, fuck, fuck! Xander! Xan-love... I've got the witch - come meet us. Got some news, love….*_

 

 

_____________________  
Siouxsee and the Banshees - _Swimming Horses_


	5. Awake

Spike was waiting behind the Magic Box, pacing up and down the alley, cursing and smoking. Xander parked his truck at the alley mouth and he and Oz got out. The link was like coming into a hive-full of bees or something - swarming, darting thoughts, barely coherent. Rage and fear uppermost, with the fear tapering once Xander and Oz were physically in sight. _*Did you tell them?*_

_*No, just said you found Willow and we were gonna come get you. What the fuck could I say? Spike - what are we gonna do?*_

_*Don't know, love….*_

_*Dawn....*_ Oz thought, and they all flinched at that - at what this would do to her.

"Where's Willow?" Xander asked, coming up the alley and the demon snarled - was pushed away and then flickered back. This time Spike let it stay and he jerked his head in the direction of the shop.

"She's in there. Couldn't take any more of her wailing."

Xander nodded, but he didn't move towards the shop, and neither did Oz. "Did you really...is Buffy...?"  
Spike sighed, flicking his cigarette away. He looked tired and angry, and Xander reached out and sank his fingers into the short hair behind Spike's ear - cupped his hand around the back of his neck and pulled him closer for a soft kiss. After a moment Spike relaxed, shifting the demon away, and Xander leaned against the shop wall and Spike leaned with him, one arm loosely around his waist. Oz stood in front of them, arms crossed, watching Spike.

"It was her, love. Christ, it was -" Spike sent it through the link again, this time slower, with as much detail as he could. Xander flinched a little from it - looked over at Oz who looked troubled. "We need to get Red back to the house. See what the Watcher has to say. She might not be - right. The Bit... she can't know, Xander. Not if her sis is...wrong. She can't know."

Xander _knew_ that - felt that urge to protect Dawn _*protect pack!*_ , but.... "How can we keep it from her? I mean - she has a right -"

" _Sod_ it all, Xander, we _can't!_ Don't you see how much it'll hurt her if the Slayer's just...a body? If her blood and bones came back but not her _mind?_ That'd be worse then her being dead." 

Xander heard the pleading in Spike's voice - _felt_ it, felt the truth. "Damnit...I know, it's just - It sucks to hide this from her." Xander let his head rest for a moment on Spike's shoulder - felt the vampire slowly getting out another cigarette.

"Better that she doesn't know. I'll tell her - I'll figure something out, love. You don't have to lie to her." _*Anything to keep her safe, anything to keep her happy,*_ and if that meant lies, then so be it. Spike didn't care - he could justify any means, if he tried hard enough, and Xander felt a guilty relief at not having to find some story to tell Dawn.

"What should we do? Do we really want to talk about this at home?" Oz asked.

"We have to. Not gonna split everybody up - it's not safe. And we need to get going, loves, because these Hellions are in a bloody ugly mood and things are only gonna get worse."

Xander glanced over at Oz, who nodded agreement. _*I'll get Willow,*_ and the werewolf walked into the shop, mentally bracing himself. 

"I can't believe she'd do something like that - behind our backs.... What the fuck was she thinking?" The anger that Xander had been holding in check for the past half-hour was boiling just below the surface and he knew that if he wasn't careful he would let it go - and probably lose Willow as a friend for life. But _God_ , he was so angry!

"Watcher's gonna make her sorry, pet - you don't have to." There was a flash of white in the gloom of the alley - a malicious, fang-edged smile - and Xander shivered. If Giles didn't make Willow sorry, Spike _would_ , and Xander didn't actually want that, no matter _how_ angry he was.

"Yeah. Fuck, I don't want to be around for that." The door to the shop opened and Oz stepped out - turned and made a gesture and Willow came through the door, hesitant. She looked at Xander and opened her mouth and Xander held up a hand.

"Don't, Willow. Let's get back to the house. I just - can't, right now."

"Xander -"

" _Don't_ , Willow. Please? Can we just...go?" Xander turned on his heel and walked shakily to his truck, hearing Willow's smothered sobs, hearing Oz murmuring something to her. Spike stalked beside him and when they got to the truck he swung himself into the back.

"I'll just ride back here then, right? Keep an eye out."

_*Yeah. Thanks, Spike...love you….*_

_*Love you. You okay, wolf?*_

*Probably. Maybe. I'll - tell you soon.* The ride to their house was mostly silent, and Willow didn't try to talk to Xander or Oz. There were tell-tale signs of the Hellions here and there, gradually tapering off as they neared their own neighborhood.

_*Thank God. Think they'll come out this far?*_

_*Downtown ought to keep 'em busy for a while...we're probably okay unless the 'bot brings 'em here, chasing Red.*_

_*Where **is** the 'bot? You saw them taking it, Spike?*_

_*Yeah, wolf, I did. I guess - they must still have it.*_

None of that was comforting and they got silently out of the truck and went inside. Xander felt the wards - like a prickle of icy claws down his back as they crossed the threshold - and behind him he heard Willow gasp.

"What is - who made that?"

"Tara and Giles did," Oz said quietly, and Willow looked at him - nodded. 

"It's - it's strong." That seemed to upset her somehow, and they walked through to the kitchen. Dawn was still at the table, eating a last bit of pizza. Tara was sitting with her, looking tired, and as they came in she got up and went to Willow - pulled her into a hug and just leaned there, her face in Willow's hair. Willow hugged her back, stroking her hair, whispering something that made Tara shiver in her arms. Ethan was slumped over in a chair in the corner, looking out of it. Giles was pacing and when they came in he looked up sharply.

"Oz. You're - you're friend called. Derio. He said to tell you he's fine, he's safe, and he'll see you in the morning." Oz nodded, a small smile crossing his face, and a subtle bit of tension went out of the link. 

"Hey Dawn, it's getting late - you really need to get to bed," Xander said softly, and Dawn looked at him, fear and anger and disappointment all careening through the link.

"I don't think I _can_ sleep, Xander. I mean - it's pretty scary out there. Can I just - can I go watch a movie? I don't want to be alone upstairs. Please?" Xander didn't know what to say, and stood there for a minute, watching Tara pull back from Willow and tug her over to the table, getting her to sit down and scooting her own chair close, Willow's hand locked tight in hers.

"Course you can, Bit," Spike said, getting his flask out of his duster pocket and opening it. "You go get your nightclothes on and clean your teeth and I'll come watch with you, right?"

Dawn nodded - wiped furiously at her eyes and stood up. "Yeah, okay. Thanks, Spike."

"Anything for you, poppet," he said softly, then took a long drink from the flask. Dawn gave Tara and Willow a little smile and picked up her plate - took it over to the sink.

_*Thank God -*_ Xander thought, but suddenly Ethan stirred, straightening abruptly, his eyes going wide.

"Oh, little girl, do you have _any_ idea what you've done?" he rasped, and Giles whipped around, striding over to him.

"Bloody hell, Ethan! No one wants to hear your ramblings!"

"You'd best _hear it_ , Ripper my dear, you had best _listen_. Do you have any idea what she's unpicked, this little tailor? What seams she's ripped out and done back up again? Weren't even _looking_ at the pattern, were you, girl?" Ethan shoved at the hand Giles had on his shoulder - stood up with a grimace and wobbled over to the table - leaned there. Willow and Tara both recoiled, and Tara looked questioningly at Willow.

"Honey - what -?"

"Best stop right there, mage," Spike interrupted, his voice cold and level - hateful. "You don't have enough magic in you to stop me ripping your heart right out of your chest."

_*Not pack not pack*_ flooding the link from all of them and Xander saw Oz lift his head, his eyes black. Spike was demon-faced, unmoving but tense in the doorway of the kitchen, and Dawn was cringing against the counter. Tara kept looking at Willow and Willow met Ethan's eyes squarely, with something fierce and defiant in her gaze.

"You shut up. You've haven't done anything but try to hurt us! I was doing - I was _helping_ , I was making things _right_. Saving her -"

" _Saving_ her from what, little seamstress? From eternity? From her fate? You're not the one who chooses, love; _you're_ not the one that gets to decide. Do you have any idea what bargains you've unraveled? What ripples you've caused? They'll come back to you like a fucking _tsunami_ , little witch." Ethan's gaze - wild and rather glassy - roved over all of them, and he gave a short, barking laugh. 

"Ethan -" Giles said, pleading in his tone, and Ethan reached and touched the Watcher's cheek - fleeting touch like a butterfly.

"Don't you know? The dead aren't meant to come back to us, child, unless they give up something…." Ethan's eyes flickered to Spike then, and Xander felt the surge of fury from the vampire - felt the coiling of power from Ethan, the hideous sub-sonic whine that was his power. _*Chaos infinite endingbeginning cold cold cold*_ Janus - the balance of all things - was where Ethan drew his magic from, but he was _out_ of balance - too ill to control it - and Tara and Willow both gasped as they felt the flaring of his power - the out-of-control surge that threatened them all.

"What is he talking about? What dead? Why is - Willow, what's going on?" Dawn's voice was shrill and cracking and Spike moved in the blink of an eye - had Ethan up against the wall, his hand tight around the skinny throat.

"You'll shut up or I'll have your bones for soup, you hear me? Turn it _off_ , mage - you're like a fucking charnel house and the carrion crows are _circling in_ , you fuck." Ethan's eyes were wild, but it wasn't with fear. A rusty, strangled chuckle forced its way out of his throat and Spike snarled. 

" _Spike!_ " Giles grabbed his arm and pulled, but he couldn't budge Spike's arm and the vampire turned his head and growled at the other man, snapping his fangs in the Watcher's face. Giles glared back, _*darkman demonkiller*_ flaring off him like black fire.

_*Oh fuck, **damnit** \- Spike, **stop** , let him go, for fuck's sake, this isn't helping!*_

_*Not pack not pack don't hurt him, **not pack** *_ The wolf was going schizophrenic in it's need to protect Spike and Oz's need to protect Giles and Xander could feel the hyena straining against his control - could feel the soldier as well, ready to take Giles down if he moved against Spike.

"Stop it, God damnit - Giles! Please - Spike, let him go, we have to - calm down -" Xander was crossing the kitchen as he spoke - was getting between Spike and Giles, was _making_ Spike look at him, making him let go his hold on Ethan's throat. And then Oz was there too, pulling at Spike, confusing the demon enough that it backed off - let go and let its family calm it - distract it.

"Stop it, please! Just stop!" Dawn cried, and Spike forced himself to calm down.

_*Scaring the Bit, damnit, gotta.... Pet, I'm all right, I -*_ "Tell him turn it _off_ , Watcher. Make him shut it down."

Ethan was sagging down the wall, his ravaged body exhausted, his chest heaving in ragged, wet-sounding breaths. Giles got a shoulder under his arm - got him up and back to his chair, murmuring to him. Ethan seemed dazed - seemed a little lost - and he put his hand up to Giles' face again, touching it lightly and looking at the other man with wide, wondering eyes. And then his own eyes rolled up in his head and he sprawled loosely, unconscious. Oz moved to Giles' side and helped him lay the man gently on the floor - grabbed Giles' suit jacket off the back of a chair and folded it into a hasty pillow. Giles took it with murmured thanks and settled it under Ethan's head - said something else and Oz went away into the living room. He came back a moment later with a blanket and they tucked it around the still form.

For a moment Giles crouched there, the backs of his fingers on Ethan's cheek, his eyes so very weary. Then he stood up slowly, his gaze flickering over Spike and Xander. Xander tightened his hold around Spike's waist - moved to get between the two. Then Giles turned deliberately to Willow. He crossed the kitchen and leaned down, hands flat on the table. Willow stared at him, her eyes wide, her mouth set in a hard line. Her fingers were twined with Tara's, white and shaking, and Tara was looking at Willow with a dawning expression of horror on her face. Dawn was frozen by the sink still, her hand over her mouth, looking fixedly at Willow as well. Giles took in a hard breath and then spoke, and they all jumped at the deadly tone of his voice.

"Willow. Tell me - what you've done. Tell me _all_ of it. Right now."

 

Willow spoke, slowly spelling out her actions and her fears and her justifications. Spike leaned briefly into Xander, scenting deeply of the warm fragrance that gathered at the juncture of throat and shoulder - that was held by his hair. Then he moved around the room and wrapped himself around Dawn, holding her close and feeling her heart pound and pound against his chest - feeling the _*fear want fear*_ that was pouring off her. She was sobbing quietly and Spike doubted she heard half of what Willow was saying.

Willow's voice finally faded away altogether and there was a long, long silence. Spike looked over at Xander, who was standing shoulder to shoulder with Oz, their hands twined together. Xander had tears in his eyes and he wiped them away - took a deep breath. Tara had pulled her hand out of Willow's and was staring at her girlfriend. The Watcher pushed himself away from the table and turned his back on all of them - went over to Ethan and crouched down. He stroked the tumbled, dark hair off the man's face - briefly felt his pulse and then snugged the blanket up a little higher around his chest.

"If it isn't her.... If you've brought back something...else, Willow...." Giles stood up, and when he turned to face the witch again he was Ripper, and they all flinched from that. "You, and you alone will be the one to send - it - back. And deal with - whatever is left. Do I make myself clear?" Willow seemed to be frozen under his hooded gaze but after a moment she nodded jerkily. "Right now...we need to find - it. Her. We need to...know…." Giles stopped talking, and his look was, for one moment, utterly lost. Then his expression hardened and he cleared his throat.

"We need to do a locator spell. Tara, I'm going to need your help."

Willow stirred at that - looked pleadingly at Tara, who shook her head. "Giles, I can -"

" _No_ , Willow, you _can not_." Giles moved away, into the living room and Tara gathered up a backpack from under the table. She touched Willow's shoulder gently and then followed Giles.

"I - I want to understand," Dawn said, her voice high and wavering, and Spike stroked her hair. 

"What do you want to understand, poppet?" he asked softly, and she took a step back, wiping her eyes.

"What did Willow do? Why is Giles so - angry? I don't -" She sniffled and reached past Spike for a paper towel - blew her nose and wiped her eyes.

"Dawn...." Spike looked over at Xander and Oz, wishing this didn't have to be said. Then he took Dawn's shoulder and guided her over to the table - got her to sit down. _*Fuck, fuck... Why did that bloody mage have to spout off….*_

_*You want - want me to tell her, love?*_

_*No, I'll do it.*_ Spike smiled faintly at Dawn, and took her hand. Oz moved slowly over to the chair Tara had vacated and sat down, putting his feet in the seat and his chin on his knees, _*protect pack pack,*_ faint but constant, and Xander echoed it, as did the demon.

"It's like this, then. Red here thought - that your sis was in Hell. That when she died it was all - wrong - and she was trapped in some hell dimension."

Dawn's eyes were huge, and she turned to Willow. "Was she? I mean, how did you know? Did you do a spell, did you - did you see her there?"

Willow looked at Oz - at Spike - and slowly shook her head. "No, I - I couldn't find a spell that would tell me, Dawnie. But - but she was! I mean - she d-died in the portal, and everything was wrong because of - because of the monks messing with everything - I couldn't leave her there!"

_*Bloody hell. Absolute fucking rubbish -*_ "Tell the truth, Red, you don't know _anything_ for sure -"

_*Spike, please love -*_

_*Yeah, okay, I'll...yeah....*_ Spike leaned back in his chair, getting out a cigarette, struggling to control the demon and _himself_. Refraining, minute by minute, from reaching across and snapping the witch's neck. Xander moved over behind his chair, settling his hands lightly on Spike's shoulders and rubbing his thumbs up and down Spike's neck. Spike relaxed into the touch, shutting the anger down.

"So you found a spell to - to bring her back? You brought her back from the dead." Willow nodded and Dawn looked over at Spike. "Where is she then? Why didn't she - why isn't she here? Or - is she at home? I mean, why isn't she trying to find us?" Willow opened her mouth and Oz put his hand on her arm. Willow subsided, looking hurt.

"She woke up in her grave, Dawn. She had to dig her way out and she's...a little lost, we think." Oz's voice was calm but the link flared with pity and anger and Spike heard Xander take a hard breath - felt the tremor go through his hands.

"She - out of the _ground_? Oh my - God, oh, poor Buffy, oh _God_." Dawn shuddered, rubbing her arms, and Spike tried to calm her, thinking rapidly.

"It's not so awful, Bit. Did it once myself, you know." The memory of it flashed through the link and Xander's hands clamped down _hard_ and, _*oh don't, oh Spike, God....*_

"You did?"

"Well, yeah. But - I had Dru waitin' for me, didn't I? I wasn't - all alone with those fu- those demons swoopin' around on their motorbikes. She's just - confused is all, Niblet - she'll be getting her head straight soon."

"What did Giles mean? He said - if she isn't right, if Willow b-brought back something else…. Is it like that time -?"

"Just like that, Bit," Spike interrupted, not wanting to bring up Dawn's own foray into resurrection. _*Willow had a hand in that too, didn't she?*_ Xander thought, and anger rippled through the link - anger and a sense of betrayal.

"So - so if we find her and - and she's okay then it'll be - everything will be like it was." They all exchanged glances and Willow smiled a fragile sort of smile.

"Yeah, Dawn, everything'll be fine. We just - we need to find her."

"We need something," Giles said, appearing in the doorway and Willow jumped a little.

"What do you need, Giles?" Xander asked, and Giles put his hand up to his face, to rub his forehead and then slide his hand back, over his hair to his neck.

"We need something of Buffy's. I don't suppose -"

"Can you use a picture?" Giles shook his head - sent an apologetic look towards Xander.

"No, I'm sorry, it - has to be something more - personal."

"There's me," Dawn said, and Spike looked sharply at her.

"What do you mean, Bit?"

"I mean - Buffy said I was part of her - Summers' blood. So - could you use my blood?"

"Oh Dawnie -" Willow breathed, but Giles was smiling, just a little.

"Yes, actually, we could. We'd just need a drop," Giles added, as Spike growled low in his chest.

"Okay. I can do that." Dawn got up, wiping her hand over her face, sniffing once and then pushing her hair back.

Spike reached out and touched her hand. "You don't have to do this, Bit. We can find her without you cutting yourself."

Dawn smiled at him - shook her head. "This'll be quicker, Spike. It's okay. I can do this."

Spike nodded, putting out his cigarette and standing up. _*Dawn's getting so grown up,*_ he thought, and he felt Xander and Oz agree - felt the same tremble of awe and panic that knowledge brought. "Come on, then."

They all went into the living room. Tara was sitting on the floor, a map of Sunnydale spread out in front of her with candles at the four corners. She had a small bowl of herbs in her lap and when they filed in she looked up, solemn and calm. "Dawn? Th-thank you. Can you come over h-here?'

"Sure." Dawn crossed the living room to sit by Tara, _*calm calm calm*_ in the link, as if she were trying to soothe herself.

Spike went and crouched down next to her, putting his hand on her shoulder. "I'm right here, poppet," he said softly, and Dawn nodded distractedly.

"I - I need a knife," Tara said quietly, and Spike reached into a pocket and found his straight razor. He held it out to Tara and she reached for it.

"This is sharp enough to separate two thoughts, Glinda, so you'd best be careful."

Tara's hand hesitated and then dropped back into her lap. "Maybe you should d-do it, Spike," she said, and Spike nodded.

"We ready then?" Tara glanced up at Giles - nodded - and held the bowl out. Dawn put her hand out and it was shaking, and Spike enfolded it in his, holding it still. He smiled at Dawn. "Now then, Bit, count to three -"

"One -" Dawn said, and Spike flicked the razor. Dawn gasped, but Spike didn't let her pull away and a drop of blood trembled on the tip of her finger - fell slowly into the bowl. Tara picked up a stick of incense and lit it over one of the candles - put the burning stick down into the herbs. A sudden, rather sulfurous burst of flame leaped up and then died just as quickly, leaving a gritty black ash in the bowl. Tara shook the bowl once - held it over the map.

" _Reveal_ ," she said softly, and tipped the ash over the map. It fell slowly, glittering, and Spike hissed a little, drawing away. The power from Tara was nothing like Red's or the Watcher's - nothing like the mage's. It was warm and soft, but you could feel the old magic of root and vine in it, and there was no doubt whatsoever just how powerful it was. It was a little like Jack's magic, but the nerve-rasping wrongness that Jack had projected was utterly missing from this.

The ash hit the map and rippled outward, fading, and then one spot seemed to form a miniature whirlpool and then a glow, a tiny pinpoint of light. Spike bent a little closer, studying the map, and he felt Xander coming down on one knee next to him.

"You know where she is, love?" Spike asked, and Xander looked up at him - nodded.

"Yeah. She's - she's at the tower. Where she died."

 

It took a few minutes to realize that _everyone_ wanted to go. Spike was adamant that they not split up, and he didn't, at that point, trust anyone but his pack to watch over Dawn and Tara. Giles spent a minute or so over Ethan, gently reviving him, and then they all went outside to the vehicles. Giles, Ethan, Tara and Willow to Giles' car, the rest to the van. At the last minute, remembering what Spike had seen, Xander grabbed a pair of Oz's sweats, a long-sleeved t-shirt and some socks.

_*Good idea, love,*_ Spike thought, stroking his hair, and Xander reached up and caught his hand - brought it around to his mouth so he could kiss the cool knuckles.

_*Do you think she'll be okay? I wish I knew - why she ran from you and Willow.*_

_*Disoriented probably, love. And terrified. I'm amazed she got so far.*_

The drive there passed in silence, and as they pulled up to the site of the tower Xander felt that same clench of sick fear in his stomach. _*Never wanted to come back here. Fuck, I hate this place.*_

_*Be all right,*_ softly from Oz, who was looking a little sick himself. Spike touched Oz's shoulder and moved to open the side door of the van. Xander climbed out after him and reached for his hand - held it tightly. He could see Oz doing the same with Dawn and they stood at the foot of the tower staring up. Giles had left Ethan in the car, and he glanced back once and then twice, making sure of the man. Willow and Tara stood side by side, and Willow was pale as paper. The tower creaked ominously, and even to the naked eye they could see it swaying - load-bearing beams beginning to buckle.

"Fuck, that's not - safe at all. Is she up there, Spike? Can you see her?" Xander looked through Spike's eyes - saw what Spike did, which was a pale figure at the end of the tower catwalk. _*God, there she is. What if she jumps? Jesus -*_

_*Gonna be all right, pet. I'll go up -*_

"No, not alone." Xander frowned over at Spike, who scowled back, opening his mouth to argue. "If she's really - confused she might attack you, Spike. I'll go up with you - hopefully she won't attack me."

"I should go," Dawn said, staring upwards, and Spike shook his head immediately.

"No, Bit, it's much too dangerous -"

"Don't tell me no, Spike! If that's really Buffy - if it's her, and she's back - I want - I want her to see me. I want her to know she - she saved me, and that I'm okay. I _have_ to, and I will." There were tears in Dawn's eyes but her expression made it clear she wouldn't budge, and Spike swore furiously.

"Fine then. But you stay the hell behind us and you don't move if we say 'stop', you hear me?"

"Yeah, I hear you," Dawn said, but she smiled at him.

_*Careful,*_ from Oz, and they started up. They climbed slowly but steadily, Spike in the lead carefully testing hand and footholds, Dawn in the middle. Xander glanced back once or twice at the receding figures below and then he focused on what was ahead. As they neared the top they had to clamber up makeshift ladders and once or twice Dawn slipped, once accidentally kicking Xander in the chin.

"Ow! Damn -" Xander rubbed his jaw and Dawn sent a guilty look over her shoulder, but they were nearly there. _*Wait, Spike - let me get up there, and Dawn, too. Don't - don't scare her.*_ At the back of the catwalk there was room for the three of them and they all stood there for a moment, just staring. 

Buffy stood on the very edge, where Dawn had been tied. A breeze plucked at her hair and the rags of her funeral dress, and she stood with her arms wrapped around her, staring out and down, unmoving. It seemed as if she hadn't heard them coming up - hadn't noticed them at all, and Spike and Xander exchanged worried glances.

"Dawn, you - go ahead. Take a step or two forward but _no more_ , hear me? Say something to her."

"O-okay," Dawn whispered, and she took two steps out along the catwalk - froze when the whole structure groaned and shivered.

_*Fuck, this thing is going to collapse - we can't let this take too long!*_

_*Too true, pet. Hope Dawn can - reach her.*_

Dawn looked back over her shoulder and then cleared her throat. "Buffy? Hey, Buffy - it's me. It's Dawn. Buffy?" The motionless figure seemed to flinch, then Buffy turned slowly around, and Dawn gasped. She was filthy, her hair matted into clumps, and there were streaks down her face that made it obvious she'd been crying. She had something in her arms, clutched tight, and Xander could see bruises and cuts on her arms and legs. Her dress was a rag of dirty cloth that barely covered her and her eyes were wide and vacant.

"Oh my God - Buffy? It's me! It's your sister! Buffy, please -" Dawn took another step and then yelped when the whole tower shimmied, twisting under their feet. Buffy didn't seem to notice. Her eyes focused on Dawn and her mouth opened, but it was a moment before any sound came out, and when it did it was a raw, rusty noise from a throat that seemed scarcely to work.

"D-dawn."

"Yes! It's Dawn! Do you - do you remember, Buffy? I'm your sister. You saved my life!" _*Joy*_ in the link, and Xander heard Spike cursing softly beside him.

_*What, love?*_

_*If it's not her - if she's not right - Dawn's heart is gonna be torn to bits. And I'm gonna kill Red.*_

_*Spike, please*_

_*I will, Xander. I'm sorry. But I will.*_ Spike turned his head to look at Xander, his eyes gleaming gold in the hazy, reflected light of the city and Xander shuddered.

_*Please, just...just don't lose it, Spike. I don't - I don't know what I'd do. Willow is -*_

_*Is hurting you - hurting Oz and the Bit - hurting my family. She's selfish, and she's arrogant, and she had no **bloody** right to decide this.*_ Spike was growling now and Dawn glanced back at him, frowning.

"Stop it, Spike! You'll scare her! Buffy - please, will you come over here? This tower isn't - isn't safe. I mean, crazy people built it and it's not gonna last much longer."

Buffy blinked and looked around her - looked out over the edge, seeming to drift away. Then she looked back at Dawn. "Dawn. My sister? You're...my sister."

"Yes! I am, that's right! And you saved me, you - you killed Glory and you came up here and you - you told me to live, Buffy and I _have_ but - but now you're back and I need you Buffy! Please, I need you. Please come here." Dawn was crying now but Buffy didn't seem to notice. She took a step - flinched a little as the tower shook again, girders shrieking.

"Dawn? Is - is this hell?" she asked, and her voice was small and bewildered and full of fear - full of pleading.

Dawn gave a coughing sob and stepped forward again, reaching out. "No! Oh, God - no, Buffy, this is - this is _home_. You're home! Xander, please, tell her, Spike, tell her...." Dawn gestured at them and Xander took a step towards Buffy as well.

"Hey Buffy - remember me? It's Xander. This - you're not in hell, Buffy. You're home. You really are. But we - we need you to get down from this tower, Buffy. It's not safe. Will you just - come over here to us? Please?"

"C'mon, Slayer," Spike said, and he moved up next to Dawn. "I've been watching out for the Bit, just like I promised you. Now you need to come over here and come down with us. Dawn needs you, Slayer - Buffy. She needs you."

Buffy stared at them all - looked up and around, and tears welled in her eyes and streaked down her cheeks, unnoticed. "This is home. Home? I remember...everything...so clearly but then it was - dark, and... It hurt." Buffy held one hand out and they all flinched a little from it; from the scrapes and cuts across her knuckles and the torn, broken fingernails. Buffy folded her arm back around her ribs and Xander finally saw what she was holding and he had to clench his fists tight, digging his fingernails into his palms to stop himself from crying - from falling to his knees and just sobbing.

_*Love, what -?*_

_*Mr. Gordo. She's - holding Mr. Gordo. God, oh **fuck** , Spike, we've got to get her down, now!*_

"Buffy, I know that - that you're confused right now but - please, you have to trust me! You're home, and we - we just want to get down from here, okay? Tara and Oz and - and Giles and Willow are all waiting for you, down on the ground. We all missed you so much, Buffy. Please...." The tower shifted again and Dawn stumbled forward - fell to one knee.

Buffy watched her fall and something crossed her face, some emotion, and she took one and then another step forward. "You - Dawn? You're Dawn, I remember...my sister...Dawn! Dawn -" Buffy staggered forward and dropped down beside Dawn - reached out towards Dawn's face but didn't quite touch.

"Dawn, oh, I remember, I - oh God -" Buffy blinked at the tears that continued to well from her eyes - looked up at Xander and then Spike. "You're here - you're... Xander? Xander - help me, please - h-help me." Buffy stretcher her hand out to Xander and he hurried forward to take it - to lift her to her feet. Dawn was on her other side, holding Buffy's arm, crying hard, now but smiling as well. They got her up and started towards the ladder and Buffy stopped short, staring up at Spike.

"You kept your promise. Spike - you kept it."

"Always do, Slayer. I'm an honorable man."

The ghost of a smile touched Buffy's mouth. "Honorable vampire. Th-thank you."

"My pleasure, Slayer." The tower structure groaned loudly and jolted sideways and they all flailed for balance. "Now it's time to _go_ , Slayer, before this whole bloody thing come down around our ears."

The trip down was terrifying, with bits of the tower falling off as they climbed, the upper portion swaying and bending, raining debris on the ground. Xander could see that the others had retreated to safety closer to the vehicles and were watching anxiously. As they got to the ground Spike took one look up and behind them and snatched Dawn off her feet.

_*Run, pet! Grab her and run!*_ Xander didn't hesitate - he grabbed Buffy in an awkward hold and they _ran_ , eyes fixed on Oz and Tara and the others. Behind them the tower screamed as girders twisted and over-stressed boards and beams gave way. The tower collapsed in a great cloud of dust and it was blind luck that made it fall east instead of west and miss them completely.

_*Jesus, that was too close!*_

_*You all right? Is Buffy -*_

*We're good, wolf. Slayer is...Slayer may be okay.* They slowed to a walk and Xander let Buffy regain her feet, breathing through his mouth in an effort to avoid the smell of rot that permeated her hair and skin - that flowed off the rag of the dress. Spike swung Dawn down and she scurried over to Buffy's side, reaching but not quite touching.

"Buffy? Are you - okay? I mean - does anything hurt?"

Buffy looked at her and blinked - looked down. "My hands and my - my feet hurt. My throat -" She coughed - blinked again. Then she stopped walking and stared, and Xander looked up.

"Oh my - God. Buffy?" Giles took a step towards her and then stopped, and Buffy's mouth twitched in something like a smile.

"It's - it's me, Giles. I - I'm not sure...what happened. Can you tell me what happened?"

"Oh of - of course, Buffy, I - of course I can but first, why don't we go home, all right? Take you home so you can - get clean and change into something - else." Buffy looked down at herself and nodded slowly.

"Wait! I...here, Buffy." Xander trotted over to the van and pulled out the bundle of clothes - took them back to Buffy. "Here. Why don't you just climb in the van and -" Buffy shivered and took a step back, then stopped herself.

" _No_. I mean…. No, I - I'll just step - around here, around the s-side. I don't - I don't need to get inside there." Xander stared at her for a moment and _*coffin*_ in the link, flicker of stifling airlessness and utter blackness and he swallowed hard.

"Yeah, okay, that's - here, Dawn, why don't you help her and we'll all stay here, okay?" Xander handed the clothes to Dawn who smiled at Buffy, and they both walked around the side of the van, out of sight. Xander closed his eyes for a long moment - sighed in relief as Spike's arms came around him, and then Oz's, a moment's blissful immersion in _*pack family love*_ before they all broke away.

"Is she - how did she - ?" Giles was polishing his glasses and Tara was smiling tremulously. Willow looked shocked, still - wide eyed, and Ethan hadn't stirred from his slumped position in the car.

"Seems a bit dazed," Spike said, glancing at Xander. "Seems - she didn't recognize us at first, but then - she got it. She might be all right."

Giles let out a harsh, sobbing breath and pressed his handkerchief hard to his mouth - turned away from them, struggling to gather his composure. "Oh, thank God," he whispered, and Willow finally seemed to relax just a little.

She hugged Tara, who was smiling harder now, laughing even. "Oh, she's back and she's - she's fine, it's gonna be fine!" Willow sang, and Spike pulled out a cigarette and lit it - blew the smoke towards the witch.

"Don't get too happy, witch. She's not gonna be the same person. Not tonight, not tomorrow. Don't expect that she'll just - snap right back."

"Stop being so negative, Spike! She's normal! She _is_ ," Willow insisted, looking around at them. "She just needs to get cleaned up and - and have something to eat - sleep for a night and - and she'll be just fine!"

"She's been _dead_ , Willow, and who knows where. A meal and a night's sleep won't...fix it." Oz's voice was quiet but Willow flinched as if he'd shouted.

"Oz! Why are you - she's _fine_ , I'm sure she is!" Oz started to reply but Giles turned around just then, his 'Watcher' face back on, and cleared his throat.

"I'll thank you not to have an argument right now. The Hellions are still in Sunnydale, and we need to get Buffy home - or back to - to your house, Xander - safely. We _all_ need to pay attention and not - not bicker about this until we've dealt with the problem at hand."

"Watcher's right," Spike said, and inhaled the last half-inch of his smoke - flicked the butt away. "Let's get going before the Hellions notice us. We've got to figure out how to get them out of Sunnydale."

"Is there - is there a problem?" Buffy and Dawn stepped back around the van, and they all turned to look at her.

"Nothing to worry about, Slayer. Let's get you and the Bit home, eh?" Buffy looked over at Spike and frowned a little, but then she nodded and moved towards the vehicles.

Willow stepped in front of her - held her hand out. "Buffy? Are you - okay? Do you - do you remember anything?"

Buffy looked at her for a long moment. "Willow. How did - who brought me - back?"

Willow's face broke into a huge smile, and she did a tiny bounce. "I did, Buffy! I couldn't leave you there, in hell, I just - couldn't bear it! I - I found the spell and - here you are!" Buffy just stared at her and Willow licked her lips nervously - saw Mr. Gordo. "Oh! Mr. Gordo! He's all - Buffy, will you let me - I can fix him up if you'll let me. Please?"

"Witch, enough magic -" Spike growled, and Giles looked pained.

"Perhaps, Willow, you should -"

"Guys! I can do this, it's really simple. Buffy, here -" Willow held out her hands and Buffy hesitated for a long moment, then gently turned Mr. Gordo over to Willow.

"Okay - first he needs to be cleaned up… _Corruptio Expungere_ ," Willow murmured, and the dirt and smears of rotting fluid vanished. Mr. Gordo was pink and fluffy again, although sadly torn. "And now, a quick fix on his seams… _Suere_." The split seams mended themselves, and Willow smiled triumphantly, handing Mr. Gordo back.

Buffy took him gingerly, looking him over, than hugged him close. "Okay - I...really want to go. Giles, can I - can you put the - the top down? I don't think - I don't want to be...closed in."

"Of course, Buffy," Giles said, and went hastily around his car and slid in - started it and pushed the button to fold the top away. Buffy watched it, seeming to lose herself in the low hum and slow, mechanical movement, and she started a little when Tara touched her arm.

"I'm glad you're back, Buffy," Tara said, and Buffy looked at her and nodded.

"Yeah. Tara. It's - good to see you." The top folded away, and Buffy and Dawn climbed into the back of Giles' car. Buffy gave the sleeping Ethan a puzzled glance and then settled into the seat, looking up at the stars.

"Have to go to our house first, Buffy. There's - something we need to take care of, okay?" Xander leaned on the side of the car, and Buffy's gaze slowly tracked to him.

"Sure, Xander, that's fine." Xander nodded and stepped away, and Giles began to drive slowly off the site. The rest of them climbed into the van and Oz followed the Watcher. Xander tugged Spike up close to him, wrapping him in his arms and putting his face down into Spike's neck, closing his eyes.

_*Love, what is it? Xander, love -*_

_*Please don't - please leave Willow alone, okay Spike? Buffy's okay, and Willow's - she'll understand, okay? We'll - talk about it and she'll understand. Please don’t -*_

Spike's arms hugged him back, crushingly tight, and Xander felt Spike's mouth on his neck - on his cheek and hair. _*I won't, love, I won't. Promise. I'm gonna be mad at her for a while, love. But I won't - touch her. Promise. Love you.*_

_*Love you too, Spike. Always.*_

_*Always, love.*_ There was satisfaction in the link from Oz - gratitude and love, and they drove through Sunnydale in silence, wondering what lay ahead.


	6. Trouble

Driving back through Sunnydale they were all silent; Willow was huddled in the back of the van with Tara and Spike was cross-legged on the floor between the two front seats, his right hand in Xander's and his left on Oz's thigh. Buffy was in the link - images and emotion - and Xander turned to Spike after a moment, a frown on his face. "Remember when Drusilla came to visit? And she said -" _*Angel falling like a star from heaven...don't be sorry for that golden angel….*_

_*Slayer, you think?*_

"I don't - what if she _was_ talking about Buffy? Do you think - what do you think it means?" Xander was fitting his hand palm to palm with Spike's - was tracing lightly over the skin of the vampire's knuckles and the back of his hand and Spike leaned his head into Xander's hip.

"She might have been. Might have been talking about something that already happened, too, or hasn't happened yet or that never _will_ happen. Dru's got the Sight but it's not - 20/20, Xander."

"It sounds like - if it were Buffy -" _*Happier being dead,*_ Oz said, and the three of them exchanged glances.

"You couldn't be...I mean, being dead is...."

"Not so bad, love," Spike said softly, and Xander smiled down at him, squeezing his hand.

"Not quite the same. Willow thinks she was in - hell. Do you think she remembers? Angel remembered." Soft snort of derision from Spike at that, and Xander picked a little at the nail-polish on Spike's thumb.

"Here now, pet, you're gonna ruin my manicure. I dunno 'bout Angel, but wherever the Slayer was, she'll tell us about it when she's good and ready."

_*Think she ever will be?*_ Oz asked, and the vacant look - the lost air - came through the link, making them fall silent.

"She _was_ in hell. She'll be better now," Willow said softly from the back of the van, and Spike turned his head to look at her, his eyes golden in the gloom.

"I wouldn't be so certain, witch. You've no idea where she's been. And you'd _no_ business doing what you did." Willow's eyes were hard - fierce - and Xander felt a cold chill down his back.

_*She's so certain…. **How** is she so certain when she couldn't even know -*_

"What was I supposed to do, Spike? Leave her there? Leave her _dead?_ None of you even seem to - to _care_ that she died like that - that she died at all!"

"Willow, you _know_ that's not true!"

"Isn't it, Xander?" Willow crawled forward on her knees a few feet, evading Tara's reach for her arm. "She died and we buried her and then it was like - like nothing ever happened! You took over patrolling and - and took over _Dawn_ -"

"Don't you drag the Bit into this, Red. She's nothing to do with this," Spike said, twisting around to face Willow. _*Anger*_ was surging in the link - anger and sorrow and fear, and Xander battered at it with _*calm, calm,*_ knowing that the subsonic hum of power that was Willow was teasing out the worst in all three of them.

"Willow - why? I just want to know why you didn't _trust_ us. Why you had to do this in secret." 

Willow's gaze switched from Spike to Xander and her face softened a little - took on a pleading look that Xander knew intimately. "Xander, I didn't _want_ to but.... For a long time I didn't even think I _could_ do it, and I didn't want to upset anybody - I didn't want to upset _Dawn_. I thought it would be better if I just did the research and - and got everything together _first_ -"

"But then you should have _told_ us, Willow," Xander said softly, and Willow bit her lip - looked away.

"I _wanted_ to. I - I just -"

"You _didn't_ want to tell anyone, Red," Spike said suddenly, cutting her off and leaning towards her - making her flinch back. "You knew if you told the Watcher or your girl there or Xander or even the _Bit_ they'd tell you no. They'd tell you to stop and _consider_ and _you_...didn't want to do that."

"That's not true, Spike -"

"Course it is." Spike leaned back up - pulled out a cigarette and lit it and regarded Willow through the smoke. There was something like disgust coming from him in the link, and Xander put his hand out, tentatively - touched Spike's shoulder.

_*Oh, Spike...please don't….*_

"You wanted to show off your power and you didn't give a bloody damn for the consequences. And there are _always_ consequences, witch. Every bit of magic you do has a consequence and this kind…." Spike took a long drag and blew the smoke straight at her, his eyes gleaming gold and his lips curled back in a snarl. "This kind could hurt _all_ of us." Willow's magic - or the presence of it - flared sharply, and a sourceless wind sprang up, fanning her hair. Behind her Tara was wide-eyed, shaking her head.

"That's not true, Spike, I would _never_ hurt Xander or Oz or - or Tara! You don't know what you're talking about!"

_*Spike, stop! We can't fight about this now -*_

"Gonna use that magic on _me_ , Red? Gonna hurt _me?_ "

"You deserve it. You're _killing_ people!" Willow's face was white as paper and she twitched when Tara's hand came down on her shoulder - twitched and slid out from under it.

_*Protect protect, not pack!*_ from the wolf, _avoid_ and _attack_ in the same breath.

"Forgetting something, witch. Forgetting that my hurt is _Xander's_ hurt. Gonna hurt him, too?" Willow stared at Spike, wide-eyed, and then her gaze went to Xander and he felt his heart sink. Because for a moment there was calculation there. As if she was weighing the hurt she could cause, and finding the...consequences...acceptable.

"Willow!" Tara cried, her eyes shimmering with tears, and Willow started to turn, to say something, and Oz suddenly slammed on the brakes. They all rocked with it, Willow falling on her side and Xander putting out his hand to keep himself from going headlong into the dash. Ahead about two car-lengths was Giles' car, also stopped. About a block further on Xander could see fire, moving figures, and -

_*There's the 'bot! Fuck - Buffy!*_ Buffy was climbing out of Giles' car.

 

_*What in hell is she doing?*_ Spike sprinted up the street after Buffy, Xander and Oz beside him. Tara was behind the wheel of the van, ready to drive away if things got ugly. Up ahead he could see the Hellions and the 'bot. They seemed to have chained the 'bot's arms and legs to various bikes and were even now preparing to quarter the ragged figure. Half the 'bots hair was missing and her clothing was torn and dirty. Wires were exposed along her abdomen and chest, and one arm was askew, as if it had been dislocated.

"Buffy! Stop!" Xander yelled, and Buffy looked over her shoulder at him, her mouth a little open, her eyes wild.

"That's _me!_ I have to...help me stop them, Xander! Help me -" Buffy turned back to the Hellions, running faster now, and Spike cursed.

_*Bloody stupid notion. Got to get the Bit out of here!*_

_*Get the Hellions out of here - let them know the Slayer is back.*_ Oz, practical as always and Spike sent him a flashing grin.

_*Good idea, wolf!*_ "Slayer!" Spike shouted, and the Hellions jerked in surprise, looking wildly around. They saw Buffy and one stepped up, sneering.

"Take the ringer out, boys! Then we'll take out the _other_ one and the Hellmouth'll belong to _us!_ "

_*Idiot*_ Xander thought, and he was grinning now - like Spike was, like Oz and Spike saw the hyena come out in the blink of an eye - saw the glow come up in Xander's eyes and he laughed aloud. Oz was shifting, half-way to the wolf and he let out a yipping howl of excitement. Too much tension - too much emotion - and this would make a fine release. Spike let out the demon and roared, and the Hellions holding the chains to the 'bot kicked their bikes into gear, going hard in four different directions. The 'bot flew apart with a _pop_ of bluish lighting and Buffy screamed.

" _No!_ " 

She flung herself forward, straight into the leader and he went down under her headlong assault. Spike dove in happily, snapping necks and ripping out throats - breaking a leg here or a skull there. The demons seemed disconcerted by a second Slayer - by a Slayer with demonic cohorts and they couldn't get themselves organized fast enough to make a decent defense. The leader was down, writhing, and Buffy was spinning and kicking, her matted hair flying out around her but Spike could sense the weakness in her. Could _smell_ it. She wasn't up to this, not yet.

_*Slayer needs help. We need to leave some alive so they can spread the word,*_ he thought, and Xander and Oz moved immediately to her side. Spike pounced on the leader and dragged him upright - threw him into the sadly diminished number of his fellow Hellions. Buffy backed off, standing in front of Xander and Oz and panting a little, wobbly.

"Slayer's here, boys - and she's not giving this town up. Best go now, before she has your heads on a pike at the city limits."

"Who the fuck are _you_ , vampire? Since when does the _Slayer_ have a vamp or any other demon fighting for her?"

"Since William the Bloody became Master here, that's when." Xander was grinning - shaking blood off his hands and the Hellion stared at him - squinted suddenly at Spike and then at Oz.

"Werewolf, vampire...and whatever the fuck you are… _Fuck!_ "

"I heard'a them," another demon muttered, and the leader glared at him - looked back at Buffy.

"Slayer -" he hissed. Buffy bent down, snatching something off the street and _throwing_ , one smooth motion. The knife she had scooped up thudded solidly in to the leader's head, between his eyes and he fell backwards in slow motion and lay, twitching, on the asphalt.

"Get the _hell_ out of my town," Buffy rasped, and the remaining Hellions scrambled for their bikes. In minutes they were gone, the roar of their bikes diminishing rapidly and Oz couldn't help sending a ringing howl after them. Buffy looked over at him - watched as he shifted back to his human self and a small smile turned up the corners of her mouth.

"You guys - you really kick ass," she whispered, her voice mostly gone, and they stared at her.

_*Never thought I'd see the day -*_ Spike thought, and then he was laughing, and Xander and Oz were, too.

"God, Buffy - are you okay? We really need to get home," Xander said, going forward and slipping his arm around the Slayer's shoulders.

"I - guess I am. I'm so tired.... Were you tired, Spike?"

"Tired when, pet?" Spike asked, fishing out his flask.

"When you - after you...dug your way out." Spike stopped, the flask half-way to his mouth, and looked at her.

_*Oh Buffy,*_ from Xander, soft and so sad.

_*Be all right, love.*_ "Yeah, Slayer, I was tired. And hungry." He flashed a fangy grin at her and took a long pull of the whisky. After a moments hesitation he held it out to her. Buffy tipped her head to one side, that little smile still there, just curling her mouth up. She reached out with her poor, torn hand and took the flask - took a drink.

"Blaaaah! Oh, God - that's awful!" she squeaked. Spike just grinned, taking the flask back.

"You're right about that, Buffy. That stuff could strip paint." Xander hugged her a little closer and there was a little thread of happiness in the link - a blossom of hope.

"Oi! Finest kind, this. You just don't have any appreciation." Spike put the flask away and snaked an arm around Xander's waist, pulling him close. He could feel Buffy's heat, just there on the other side, and then Oz slipped up, putting his arm around Buffy too, his hand just brushing Spike's where it rested on Xander's ribs.

"I'm with Xander. I say you can never go wrong with fruit."

"Fruit in drinks is for girls and poufters," Spike declared, and Xander giggled.

"Which am I, then?" he said, and Buffy actually laughed.

"Is everything all right?!" It was Giles, halfway down the block to them, looking at the sprawled corpses of demons.

"It's fine, Giles! We're coming!" Xander tugged a little, slipping his hand into Spike's back pocket and the four of them walked down the street, grinning inanely.

_*And we're a fine lot of fools, aren't we. This night is madder than that one,*_ Spike thought, seeing the tower and the portal again, and Xander bumped his hip a little, smiling over at him.

"This is how it's supposed to be, Spike. The white hats win, and walk away smiling."

"Yeah," Buffy said, looking at Spike too, and Oz made that wolfish little _whuff_ down in his chest, agreement and laughter in one.

"You lot - almost make me wanna trade in my Evil Undead membership card," Spike said, and that made Buffy giggle all the way back to Giles' car.

 

As they went up the walk to the house Buffy seemed confused, and she finally turned to Xander, frowning.

"Xander, I don't - this isn't the house you lived in before, is it?"

"Oh! That's right, you - No, this is a different house, Buffy. After - you died, we moved here. We needed someplace that had more bedrooms, so Dawn could have her own room." Xander stepped around her and unlocked the front door and held it open for everyone to file in. Giles went first, supporting a dazed Ethan, then Tara and Willow, both looking troubled. Oz and Dawn came next, and then Spike, who winked at Xander and took a quick little breath as he breached the wards.

_*Hate those bloody things.*_

"Does Dawn live here?" Buffy asked, completely confused, and Xander ushered her in, smiling.

"No, she just stays here a lot. She rides the bus over after school and Spike helps her do her homework." A snort of amusement from Spike, and a giggle from Dawn. "Well, okay, that would be a lie. He pretends to help her do her homework. Mostly he teachers her how to play poker. Or if Oz is home he's been showing her how to make stir-fry and stuff." Buffy smiled briefly at that. Her own kitchen skills were hit or miss, Xander remembered. "Then when I get home we usually have dinner and head over to the Magic Box so Dawn can go home with Tara or Willow - they moved into your house. Or we stay here and Dawn sleeps over." Buffy looked lost again - a little freaked out - and Xander put his arm around her shoulders, hugging her lightly.

"None of us wanted her to be alone, Buffy. And we love her. She's...part of our family too, you know? She even stayed with Giles once or twice - got some Beginners Latin in." Buffy just stared at him, then looked around the small living room, her eyes suspiciously bright. Oz was moving from place to place, lighting the candles they still preferred over electric bulbs. Ethan and Giles were at the kitchen table and Spike was assembling tea-things, grumbling about being the Watcher's batman. Tara and Willow were on the couch, curled together, and Dawn was hovering, watching her sister.

_*Batman?*_ Xander asked, brief image of Spike in tights and something crashed to the counter top in the kitchen.

_*Bloody hell! **No**. Batman - bloody servant. 'Do be so kind as to make some tea, Spike, I'm not familiar with your kitchen'....*_ Xander bit the inside of his lip to keep from laughing.

"Buffy? Do you - do you wanna come have some tea or - or maybe hot chocolate? Spike makes really good hot chocolate." Dawn looked encouragingly at her sister, who hesitated.

"Joyce's recipe," Spike said, grinning at Dawn, and Dawn smiled back - moved a few steps closer to Buffy.

"It's the only thing he makes besides tea," Dawn whispered, "so say yes."

"Heard that, Bit," Spike mumbled, but he got a pot out of the cupboard and poured in some milk.

"Umm. Sh-sure. Hot chocolate would be - Anya!"

"Huh? Hot chocolate would be Anya?" Xander stared at her, confused himself, now.

"Where's Anya? She's not here. Did she - Xander, did she make it?"

"What? Oh! Yeah, she made it, she was fine. A little cut up. She's with her boyfriend, Drake."

"He of the endless orgasms," Willow muttered and Tara giggled into her shoulder.

"Oh, that's - that's good." Buffy seemed to waver for a moment and Xander took her arm.

"C'mon and sit down, Buff. Have some hot chocolate and then you can get a bath, huh? And Dawn has some clothes here; you can change into something clean."

Buffy looked down at her smudged and bloody clothes - pushed a lock of filthy hair out of her face and grimaced. "Yeah. That's - that's a good idea." They went into the kitchen and settled into chairs, Buffy setting Mr. Gordo next to the three large candles-in-jars that were in the middle of the table. Dawn fetched the extra two chairs from the back porch and Oz finished lighting candles and jumped up to sit on the kitchen counter next to the stove. Spike leaned next to him and the low, contented hum of _*pack*_ made Xander sigh in relief as he settled into the chair next to Giles, letting go of tensions he hadn't realized were there.

_*Safe at home. God. Everything about tonight was - fuckin' crazy - but I'm so glad to be here. Glad everybody is here.*_

_*Love you, pet.*_

_*Love you....*_ Xander thought, including Oz, and the werewolf smiled over at him - helped himself to a square of dark chocolate from the package Spike had opened. Spike whacked the back of his hand but also leaned hard into his side, and Xander sighed again, just happy.

"Giles? Is that - Ethan Rayne?" Buffy was staring at the thin Englishman with equal parts confusion and horror on her face and Giles looked up at her and leaned his elbows on the table.

"Yes, it is Buffy. And really, it's a very long story -"

"Just sitting here, waiting on my hot chocolate," Buffy said, raising her eyebrows at him, and Giles smiled at her.

"Yes, you are, aren't you? Well, to be - succinct, when I...when I sent Ethan off with the Initiative, they...moved him to a new facility, down in Brazil. And…."

"And they tried to discover what makes a Chaos Mage tick," Ethan said, his head jerking up on his neck as if a switch had suddenly been thrown. His dark, sunken eyes roved over Buffy and he made a curious little gesture with his hand. Spike, Xander noticed, flinched from it a little as did Tara, who was standing in the doorway to the kitchen.

_*What, love?*_

_*'Nother bloody ward. Mage is superstitious, what a surprise. Against - the unhappy dead.*_

_*But she's **not** dead !*_

_*Yeah, well. He's not takin' any chances, is he?*_ Xander frowned, not really liking that. Buffy meanwhile was staring at Ethan - really _looking_ at him - and there was dawning comprehension on her face.

"Are you saying - they _hurt_ you? But, you're human!"

"So were the witches the Church burned. Humanity is never a 'Get out of jail free' card," Ethan said, smirking just a little. His lean face was so gaunt it hurt to look at, and Xander wondered what else was wrong, besides exhaustion and starvation. He seemed -

_*His magics wonky. I think - they messed up his connections, so to speak.*_

_*How do you know that, Spike?*_

_*The way he feels,*_ Spike thought, and Xander thought of the wrongness that seeped from the man, and nodded to himself. Maybe it hurt, to be like that.

"He was tortured, Buffy," Giles said softly. "Experimented on. Much like your Riley." Buffy flinched a little at that, and Giles pursed his lips but plowed on. "When the facility in Brazil was destroyed, Ethan managed to make his way here. He's only been here a short time, and he's still very ill. He's staying with me." Giles looked slightly defiant, slightly sad, and Buffy just stared at him for a moment. Spike had lit a cigarette and was stirring the chocolate, a subdued sort of laughter in the link. Laughter mostly at the _look_ on Buffy's face.

_*Stop that. He **did** try to kill us all.*_

_*Oh, that's his job though, innit? Just like mine*_ Flash of fangs over his shoulder and Xander just grinned at him.

"What happened down in Brazil? Destroyed how?" Buffy asked, and Giles looked at Xander - glanced at Spike and took off his glasses, feeling in a pocket for his handkerchief.

"Well, there were -"

"It was your vampire, there. He was instrumental in bringing all the little tin soldiers toppling down." Ethan shot a look of wolfish glee at Spike, who raised an eyebrow at him.

"What? Okay - first? He's not _my_ vampire -"

"Got that bloody right," Spike grumbled, and Buffy rolled her eyes.

" _So_ not complaining. And second? We're sliding into bizzaro-land, here. How did _Spike_ get down to _Brazil_ and take out the Initiative."

"Called in a favor or two, Slayer. T'wasn't hard."

_*Can we please not brag about this?*_

_*Was a good job, pet - nothing to be ashamed of.*_

_*Don't play the fool,*_ from Oz, who was staring at Dawn. The younger girl looked rather shocked and the look she turned on Spike was confused and a little afraid.

"Spike, did you really -"

"I did really, Bit. And I'd do it again. Those wankers were putting everybody in danger, messing with things they didn't know how to handle. Just ask the Watcher there, or your sis. They were heading for something nasty." Spike turned his back on the group abruptly, stirring the mixture in the pot, and Oz reached out and rubbed his hand slowly up Spike's arm and shoulder to his neck - kneaded the tense muscles there.

_*Fuckin' mage should learn to keep his mouth shut.*_

_*Dawn understands,*_ Oz thought, and Spike flicked a glance at him.

_*Don't want her to have to,*_ he thought back, and Xander understood that, but….

_*Can't keep her in the dark forever. Better she knows things - she'll be safer in the long run.*_ They _all_ agreed on that, but none of them wanted to be the one to introduce Dawn to the grimmer realities of life on the Hellmouth. Well, the grimmer realities she hadn't been forced to live through, that is.

"He's right, you know," Ethan said, sitting up a little straighter and running his hand back through his hair, vain attempt to make it lie down. "They were mixing magic and science - or trying to. They were...upsetting the balance. We're all very lucky the bad thing that happened happened to _them_ , and not.... Well, I can't say _us_ since I was there. Let's just say the world is a bit better off without them." Ethan was serious now, looking straight at Buffy and not smiling at all, and Buffy slowly nodded.

"Giles - said something about that, the last time you were in Sunnydale. He said you'd warned him.... Well I'm - I'm glad you got out."

"No you're not," Ethan said softly, and his hand reached out and touched Giles' hand, and their fingers twined together. "But _I_ am."

Buffy looked at their hands with narrowed eyes and then looked around. Tara had come over and sat down in the last free chair and Willow leaned behind her, toying with Tara's long blonde hair and not looking at anyone. "Okay. Has _everyone_ become gay since I died? What's _up_ with that?" Giles just gaped at her, blushing, and Ethan laughed outright, leaning back in his chair and tugging Giles' hand down onto his thigh. Spike appeared over her shoulder, fists sprouting mugs of hot chocolate.

"Only common sense, Slayer. Who'd know better about what to do with you than another bird?"

" _Spike!_ Gross. Can't you say ' _woman_ ' or maybe just ' _girl_ '? Now I'm gonna have visions of chickens!" Dawn looked outraged and Buffy just stared at her - started making these strange sort of snorting noises. While everyone looked on in confusion she finally slumped down over the table and laughed. It was a little hysterical but it was a good sound, and Spike and Oz distributed cups and mugs until everyone had something hot to drink. Ethan, Giles and Spike all took slugs of whiskey in their tea. Buffy sat up finally, wiping her eyes, and she sipped her chocolate between tremors of silent laughter.

"I have - a lot of questions and...." Buffy looked around at all of them, her fingers creeping out to touch Mr. Gordo. "I'm not...really sure I'm awake, or...something. I just want to get clean and go to sleep and talk about all this -" she waved her hand around her, encompassing them all. "Talk about this in the morning. Okay?"

"Of course," Giles murmured, and he suddenly reached across the table and clasped her hand in his, squeezing gently. "I'm so very - very glad you're back, Buffy," he said softly, and Buffy's calm mask cracked for a moment, showing raw emotion that she instantly shut down.

"I'm s-sorry, Giles, I -"

"No, don't finish that. You've no apologies to make." Giles smiled gently at her and she nodded hesitantly, wiping her hand over her eyes. Oz had leaned down to murmur something in Dawn's ear and she nodded, standing up.

"C'mon Buffy, I'll show you the bathroom and my room - it's so cool, they let me paint it whatever color I wanted!"

Buffy sniffed and then smiled at her sister, standing also and tucking Mr. Gordo under her arm. "Oh, boy. Why do I think I'm gonna be sleeping in a room with orange walls and green carpet?"

"Buffy! I was _five_ when I wanted that! I've got _much_ better taste now. And no carpet, but the _rug_ is purple...." Dawn led her away upstairs and a sort of tension seemed to slip out of all of them and Giles sighed and slumped back into his chair, glancing at his watch.

"Good Lord, it's nearly three! We really must -" The rest of his words were lost in a jaw-cracking yawn.

_*Shouldn't split up just yet,*_ Spike thought, and Xander glanced at him and nodded.

"Giles, you and Ethan should stay here tonight. We don't think it's a good idea to split up until daylight."

"Oh, no, we really -"

"Ripper," Ethan said, putting his hand on Giles' shoulder. "Listen to them. They're right. Things are still...unsettled." Ethan flicked his fingers out, and the wards shivered, prickle of static across all of their nerves. There was _pressure_ , from the outside still - the Hellmouth uneasy as if the very fabric of it had been strained - frayed.

_*Has, in a way. Who knows what Red pulled loose when she yanked the Slayer back home? We'll be patching things for months.*_

Giles had turned to look at Ethan and they stared at each other silently for a moment, and then Giles nodded. "All right, then. We'll - we can camp down here -"

"No, Giles. You can sleep up in our room. We still have the fold-out couch, me and Spike and Oz can all fit in it. Tara and Willow can have Oz's room," Xander said, confirmation and approval flickering in the link, and Giles looked faintly surprised and then grateful.

"Ah, well... Thank you, then. That would be - just fine."

"I'll get some clean sheets," Xander mused, standing up and gathering cups and Oz joined him. Spike was leaning against the counter, smoking, and Tara got up as well, handing her cup to Oz with a small smile.

"Thanks, guys. I th-think I could sleep for a week." She turned to Willow and reached for her hand, then frowned. "What is it, sweetie?" Willow looked up from picking at the hem of her shirt, frowning a little.

"Oh, it's just... Buffy didn't seem very happy. To be back, I mean. To be out of hell."

"She's just tired, sweetie, she'll - she'll be better t-tomorrow."

"Or she won't," Spike said, and Willow frowned at him.

"It's not like I expect _you_ to care, but she's _back!_ I mean, there should be a little celebration or something, not all this - doom and gloom!"

"You mean a little celebration of _you?_ " Spike sneered, and Willow's eyes went wide and then narrow.

_*Fuck, thought we could get to sleep without this -*_

_*Rubs me the wrong way, love, sorry,*_ Spike thought, but he wasn't sorry and Xander knew it. Oz just shrugged, _*pack*_ and _*tired*_ , and Xander felt the same.

"Well, okay, _yeah!_ I mean, that was some pretty advanced magic and - and I pulled it off! Without any help! I kinda think maybe somebody should say 'congratulations'!"

"That is _not_ the word I would choose," Giles said, his eyes glinting with anger. He pushed to his feet abruptly and leaned on the table, staring at Willow. "The power you used is _primal_ , Willow - power that very few have the ability - or the sheer bloody _audacity_ \- to meddle with! Don't you see, you _stupid_ girl, you're lucky to be alive!" Giles shouted the last and Willow gasped in surprise - recoiled from him. And then she leaned forward as well, anger vibrating through her.

"But I _did it_ , Giles! I did what nobody else could! I _am_ powerful, and maybe - maybe you don't want to mess with me!"

" _Willow_ ," Tara said, and there was - _something_ \- in the blonde witch's voice - a whip-crack of power that made them _all_ flinch. Ethan raised his head like a dog scenting prey, grinning.

"Root and vine, little witchling - even _you_ don't want to cross that line."

"What -"

"Mr. R-rayne, don't," Tara said. She reached out and took Willow's hand. "We're going upstairs. Giles, I'm sorry. We'll t-talk in the morning, okay?"

"Yes, I think that would be best," Giles said shortly, then he sighed and took his glasses off - rubbed his forehead and stood there a moment, head down.

"Willow - I didn't mean to shout at you. But you cannot - cannot dismiss this lightly. There will be consequences."

"We'll deal with them, Giles. Buffy's back now and - and everything'll be fine. You'll see." Giles just shook his head, looking too tired to even speak anymore, and Willow and Tara said their goodnights, going away upstairs. Oz followed, calling softly up after them that he'd be up in a minute with clean sheets.

"Yeah, clean sheets all around. And no alarm clocks!" Xander said, yawning hard.

"Yes, you're right. I - I appreciate - everything you've done tonight, Xander - the three of you. I -"

"Sure, Giles. No problem. And - Willow - she.... She didn't mean that. You know that, right?" Xander still felt the tremor of barely-contained magics vibrating through the room - knew Spike and Oz did, as well. It made him want to bristle up and snarl, but he shoved the hyena away, determined to smooth things over.

"She is, for all her power, just an amateur, Xander. And an arrogant one at that. I - my teaching -"

"You can't stop that sort of thing Rupert - you of all people should know that." Ethan pushed himself to his feet and tentatively wound his arm around Giles' waist. After a moment Giles returned the gesture and Ethan sighed softly, leaning into him. "She'll go on her merry way and she'll learn, eventually. Or die. You can only put the knowledge in front of her - you can't make her mind it."'

"She keeps on _not_ minding it and she'll know what it's like to piss off a Master. She does anything that threatens my family again and I won't hesitate," Spike said, and his calm, quiet voice held absolute conviction. There was a moment of silence and then Giles nodded.

"If she continues like she is, she may not survive long enough for you to extract your vengeance, Spike." Giles shook his head - turned and briefly rested his mouth on Ethan's temple - the first real sign of true affection he'd shown in front of them, and somehow that made Xander feel like Giles finally, truly trusted them _all_.

"Go to bed, Giles. We'll fix this tomorrow. Or, get started on fixing it. C'mon, I'll get your bed made up." Giles nodded and they went away upstairs, Oz getting clean sheets for Tara and Willow and sorting out a t-shirt and boxers to sleep in. Xander did the same, and he paused outside of Dawn's door, listening. But there was nothing except maybe a faint snore, and he smiled to himself and went downstairs again. Spike had piled all the cups in a haphazard fashion in the sink and pulled the sofa-bed out, and was sitting moodily on the foot of it, his flask in his hand. He tipped it up, emptying it, and looked up when Xander and Oz came in.

"Need to go out, love." _*Hungry, angry.*_

_*Yeah....*_ Xander slumped down next to him and nuzzled into his shoulder - turned his face up for a kiss and was rewarded with a slow, deep exploration of his mouth, tasting whiskey and smoke and Spike, _*love you love you*_ curling through the link like a warm breeze.

_*Be careful, love.*_

_*Always.*_ Spike stood up, picking up his duster and shrugging it on, then standing for a minute, his hand cupping Xander's cheek. 

"You all right?" Xander asked softly, and Spike nodded.

"Course I am, love. Just - anxious, is all. Too much power flying about tonight. Makes me -" Spike shivered, and Xander nodded.

"Yeah. Makes me wanna fight something," Oz said softly, and Spike grinned - reached over and pulled Oz into a hug, ruffling his hair up and kissing the werewolf on the temple.

"Wanna come run with me, wolf?" Oz hugged him back - looked towards the door with a considering expression, biting his lip. And then he sighed and shook his head, pulling away and flopping down next to Xander.

"Can't. Well, shouldn't. I've got to work tomorrow and get over to see Derio first thing…."

"Yeah. You two sleep, then - I'll be quiet, coming in."

"No you won't," Xander muttered, but he was smiling and Spike grinned back at him - slipped out the door and into the night. Oz and Xander shuffled under the covers, Xander stretching hard and relaxing with a soft groan, his back sore from the tensions of the day and long-ignored bruises from the fight earlier suddenly perking up and starting to ache. "Christ. I'm so tired.... You okay, Oz?"

"Yeah." Oz turned in the bed, curling up and pressing his back to Xander's side. "Just - gonna be weird, these next few weeks, don't you think?" 

"Yeah, weird. Well -" Xander yawned and turned as well, Oz solid and warm behind him, the rest of the bed empty, waiting for Spike. "Weird is our middle name, huh? We'll be fine." _*Love you.*_

_*Love you too.*_

_*Love you both and John Boy too, now get some bloody **sleep**!*_ Smiling, Xander closed his eyes.


	7. Worry

Spike breathed, slow and deep, savoring the warm, musky scent that surrounded him. _*Smell so good, love.*_ He bowed his head a little and licked the taut arch of Xander's neck - let his teeth scrape lightly over the scar. Xander shuddered, his head thrown back on Spike's shoulder and his fingers, at the moment, digging into Spike's hips. His body was quivering with tension and pleasure and Spike wound his arms tighter around Xander's ribs and breathed again, burrowing into the sweat-damp hair that lay over Xander's shoulder.

_*Spike, love....*_ "Please." Xander was grinding his hips down, trying for more contact and Spike let him - pulled him down tight, loving the hot, clinging feel of Xander around his cock, loving the grasping flutter of muscle as he pushed deeper. He slid one hand down Xander's chest and belly to his cock and stroked there for a moment, then reached lower, between the spread legs. Spike was on his knees on the bed, and Xander was kneeling over him, back to chest. Spike loved being able to hold him this way - loved the press of flesh all down him. Xander's hands slid back, grasping his buttocks and trying to push him, to make him move.

"Sspike...please fuck me."

"Am, love...feel this...." Spike's fingers paused for a moment to caress the soft skin of Xander's tightly drawn-up balls, then moved on to the slick skin that was beneath them. He circled the root of his own cock with his fingers - scratched lightly on the stretched muscle that surrounded it - then pushed one finger in, so slowly, filing Xander that much more. Xander writhed, panting, and Spike moved his hips, lifting Xander just a little with his other arm and pulling him back down, rubbing over that sensitive spot deep inside. Xander's fingers sank into Spike's buttocks, hard enough to bruise, and Spike moaned. He twisted the finger that was inside and shivered when Xander did, his teeth biting down on the scar. There was a fizzing through the link like champagne, little prickles of pleasure along the nerves and Xander bucked desperately.

_*Fuck, **move**...Spike, just...move, move....*_

_*Shhh...almost, love.*_ Spike let his finger slip out, and he moved his hands over Xander's body - scratching over his belly, pinching at nipples, just wanting to pull Xander as close to him as he could - to touch _everything_ , to know every inch. Xander's hands roved over hip and buttock - he lifted them over his head and hooked them around Spike's neck, pulling him closer, turning his own head so they could share a kiss. Spike nipped at Xander's jaw - his chin - pulled Xander's lower lip into his mouth and sucked for a moment and then kissed him, tongue fucking into the warm, sweet flesh faster than his cock was. Then he let go and pushed Xander forward onto his hands and knees - curled his fingers around Xander's hips and moved once, hard.

_*Ready then? Love you.*_

"Yeah, God -" _*Love you*_ Xander gasped and Spike started to fuck in earnest, moving as hard and fast and as deep as Xander could take. Loving the clench and shudder every time he hit the right spot, loving how Xander's hips moved in counterpoint, how his knees spread wider on the bed, welcoming him in, wanting _more_ of him. Spike dug his thumbs into the tensed muscle around his cock and pried Xander open a little wider, watching himself sliding in and pulling out, pushing with the tips of his thumbs until they were inside, pulling Xander open and Xander was crying out now, breathy sounds of encouragement.

Spike sunk in deeper, spread him open further; arching his back, his legs trembling; he _thrust_ , his whole body driving forward into willing, squirming flesh. The double feeling, of fucking and being fucked - the incredible burn of the hard stretch that Xander pushed back into, wanting more - the heat and tip-to-root clench of silken flesh was almost overwhelming. Then Xander clenched down harder - pushed the link wide and arched his back and thrust back hard and Spike nearly screamed.

_*Love, do it, please - c'mon, yours, love, take it, take me….*_ Xander was groaning, panting - arching his throat, and Spike rammed forward _hard_ , sending him to his belly, getting one hand under and around Xander's cock in a hard grip and snaking the other up to clench into his hair. Chest to back, glorious heat and friction and sweat-wood-sweet-savory, the complicated scent that was _*love*_ and _*home*_ and _*family*_ and _*mine*_. 

Spike sucked salt-tinged flesh into his mouth - let the demon come out, whining with need and bite, deep and hard. They both froze for a split second and then Spike was thrusting and sucking, all rhythm lost in the surge and twist and fire of his orgasm and Xander's. Sensation coiling through and through the link: Xander's come hot over his hand, slick as oil and rich with musk, and the fist/body around his own cock. The blood that tasted of desire and magic and spice, and the delicious sting and pull of being bitten. The low, gasping cries that Xander couldn't stop as he undulated under Spike, his skin roughening with gooseflesh and his body practically vibrating around Spike's cock, and the vampire's own growling moan from deep in his chest as he shuddered to completion.

_*Fuckin' lovely, you're so lovely...always, Xander, always mine, yours, always, always….*_ Drifting into incoherency as the climax left them limp and gasping.

_*God yes, love you, always always...no, don't, want you there, love you there, holding me….*_

Spike stopped in his half-hearted attempt to roll off Xander's back and simply collapsed over him, easing his fangs out carefully and licking up the smear of blood. Xander's body was still clenching and fluttering around him and he moved his hips ever so slightly, loving the soft moan it elicited.

"Never get tired of that," Xander murmured, turning his head just a little so Spike could kiss him. Spike did, awkward as the position was, and he slowly unwound his fingers from Xander's hair and stroked the tangled stands.

"Love this. Don't ever cut it, pet."

"You just want it long so you can pull it when you fuck me," Xander mumbled, his hand twitching over the sheet and pulling Spike's out from under him - twining his fingers with Spike's sticky ones.

"That too, love. But it feels so good...so soft," Spike nuzzled into the nape of Xander's neck, rubbing his cheek over the hair bunched there and Xander sighed.

_*Feels good when you pull it, though. I won't cut it but you have to beat up everybody that calls me a girl.*_

_*Anything for you, pet.*_ Spike felt the rumbling rasp of the purr starting in his chest - felt Xander's delight through the link and let it go - let it get loud. Xander took a deep breath and tried to purr back. "Silly," Spike mumbled, his voice choppy from the purr, and Xander giggled. Talking and purring at the same time never failed to make Xander laugh. Spike glanced up at the dresser - at the postcards that had been stuck back into the mirror frame the first day they'd moved into the new house. _*See if you laugh at poetry, then*_ he thought, knowing it was Xander's not-so-secret weakness. He whispered in Xander's ear.

_"Rise with the wind, my great big serpent...Silence the birds and darken the air...Charge me with terror, alive for a moment...Strike for the heart and have me there…."_

"What's that? That's...weird."

"That's Auden, and he was a weird bloke. Try this, then." Spike shifted, just a little - rumbled the purr higher and grinned at the pleasure in the link.

_"He kissed me awake and no one was sorry...The sun shone on sails, eyes, pebbles, anything...And the high green hill sits always by the sea...So, to remember our changing garden...We are linked as children in a circle dancing...My Dear One is mine as mirrors are lonely...And the high green hill sits always by the sea."_

"Like that, love?"

"Mmmm...weird but pretty. How do you remember all those?" 

"My very warped upbringing," Spike rumbled, and Xander giggled again. His free hand was on Spike's thigh where it sprawled down on the bed, rubbing lightly. He squirmed a little under Spike and then settled again, sighing happily.

_*Love feeling you on me...in me...owning me….*_

_*Don't own you, pet. You're your own.*_

_*You **do**. Own all of me. I want it like that. Love that you want me that much.*_

_*Always, love.*_ Spike kissed what he could reach of Xander's face and neck and shoulder - felt himself hardening again, as the love and want and _*yours mine always*_ suffused him. Oz and Derio were asleep down the hall, the faint night-time images the wolf sent - pack and den and _completeness_ \- only added to the vampire's own sense of utter safety, utter happiness.

"Say me another, Spike..." Xander murmured, his own desire rising, as his blood did.

"Mmmmmm..." Spike thought for a moment - lifted himself up a little and started a slow, shallow thrusting, just teasing that sensitive spot, lightly brushing over it. Xander shivered and arched into him.

_"My beloved is white and ruddy, the chiefest among ten thousand...His head is as the most fine gold, his locks are bushy, and black as a raven...His eyes are as the eyes of doves by the rivers of waters, washed with milk, and fitly set...His cheeks are as a bed of spices, as sweet flowers...his lips like lilies, dropping sweet smelling myrrh...His hands are as gold rings set with the beryl...his belly is as bright ivory overlaid with sapphires...His legs are as pillars of marble, set upon sockets of fine gold...his countenance is as Lebanon, excellent as the cedars...His mouth is most sweet...yea, he is altogether lovely...This is my beloved, and this is my friend, O daughters of Jerusalem..."_

 

"This week sucked," Dawn said, slumping down in her chair and Tara absently patted her shoulder.

"Why'd it suck, Bit?" Spike asked, sitting up on the loft stairs in the Magic Box, smoking and watching Xander.

"Because! Janice has some new boyfriend and she's spending all her time with him and he's a big dork. And I don't get the lab we're doing in biology and Buffy is _no_ help.... And that's another thing - Buffy is acting like a total freak."

"C'mon Dawn - can't be that bad," Xander said.

"Says you," Dawn muttered, rolling her eyes. Xander ginned at her and flipped a page over in the book he was reading. Some weird demon had robbed a bank and now they were looking for it, since bank robbing was apparently not common demon behavior.

_*How does anybody know that? Maybe all the great bank robbers of history were really **demons** \- special bank-robbing demons.*_

_*Robbed a bank or two in my day,*_ Spike mused, grinding out his cigarette on his boot heel and pocketing the butt. _*Was fun. Dru wanted a house and there wasn't anybody to kill for it.*_ He stood up and jumped down off the stairs - sauntered over to the counter where Anya was doing paperwork. The shop was closed for the night and research was the theme of the evening. Except for Willow and Giles, who were in the training room having another discussion-cum-argument about magic, and Buffy, who was patrolling. She did that a lot, these days.

_*Buffy's been kinda - weird, lately. You notice?*_

_*Slayer's always weird,*_ Spike thought, and Xander shot him a look. _*But, yeah...she's been kinda...off.*_

It hadn't helped that the day after her resurrection some demon - a hitchhiker, Anya had said, that had ridden into their dimension inside Buffy - had tried to kill her. And had possessed Dawn and Anya and Xander in the bargain. Another reason for Spike to be pissed at Willow, and Xander was starting to wonder if they'd ever go back to being anything like friendly. Now almost every encounter devolved into a sniping match, and Ethan Rayne was no help. His sly or mocking or sarcastic commentary did nothing to smooth ruffled feathers, and his own struggle to regain control of his magic made him short-tempered. And the aura of chaotic energy that constantly hung around the man set their whole pack on edge. The man himself was sitting in the fourth chair around the lighted table, deeply engrossed in something. Xander had the feeling it wasn't demon research, but at least he wasn't stirring everybody up. Xander reluctantly liked Ethan - admired his tenacity - but his ability to cause, well, _chaos_ was too good by far.

_*Only been a month since she came back. Can't expect everything to be all hearts and puppies,*_ Spike thought, and idly peered into a plastic bag lying on the counter. Anya slapped his hand, snatching the bag away.

"Hey! What was that for?"

"This is private, Spike. So hands off!" Anya glared at him and Spike smirked, and Xander heard the mental note to look in the bag as soon as possible. Anya shoved the bag away into a drawer and slammed it shut - went back to her accounting. Xander wished fleetingly that Oz were there - his calm always seemed to affect everyone around him - but he was helping Derio and his bandmates at a show down in Oxnard and wouldn't be back until the next day.

"Christ, found anything yet, ducks? I'm 'bout to go to sleep on my feet -" Spike leaned over Tara, peering at the book she was looking through, and Tara shook her head.

"Nothing. This book is a bust." She closed it and pushed it aside - looked over at Dawn. "C'mon Dawnie, get out your biology book and I'll help you figure it out, okay? All these demons are giving me a headache." Dawn grinned and sat up, rooting through her backpack and Spike circled the table, eyes on Xander.

_*Don't, Spike. Really. Really!*_ Spike just smirked, shifting from 'walk' to 'panther stalk' effortlessly, letting go a flood of X-rated images to the link. Xander closed his eyes and dropped his head onto the books in front of him. _*No, no, **no**! Dawn is here. And Tara. And Anya will make remarks about threesomes. And **Dawn** is here! And...and...there's already people in the training room, Spike!*_

_*Training. I like that word. 'Member what you were thinking about? Cats and...collars... and...leashes....*_ Xander groaned a little, putting his fists over his ears in a vain attempt to block out the silken voice in his head. Impossible, of course. Spike slunk up behind him and leaned on the back of his chair. A moment later his cool fingertips were lightly tracing over Xander's neck. He took the elastic out of Xander's hair, fanning it out and smoothing the ends that came to the tops of his shoulder-blades. His fingers stroked up under the hair - circled Xander's throat and held him lightly, thumbs caressing up and down his spine.

_*Just there, pet. Something...a little wide. You've the build for it. Dark green maybe. Or dark brown….*_

_*Spike, for fuck's sake.*_

_*Don't you wanna, pet? Wear my collar, kneel at my feet....*_ Xander shuddered at the images in the link - fought back with a few of his own.

_*How about **you**? You're the one that purrs...I think **you** should.*_

_*We can do both, love.*_ Spike leaned over further and nibbled on the curve of Xander's spine where it showed above the collar of his work shirt. His nails scraped lightly over the claim scar and Xander shivered violently.

"Spiike - fuckin' hell -" Xander moaned. He couldn't help it.

"Do you two need to go up on the roof? Because I'm not really in the mood for sexual shenanigans right now," Anya said, and Spike hissed in dissatisfaction as Xander sat up and pulled his hands down off his neck - held them tightly in his own, crossed over his chest and trying to ignore the sniggering coming from Dawn. He shot her a look of disapproval and she raised an eyebrow at him, _*fondness*_ and _*laughter*_ in the link.

_*Thank fucking God her link is one way.*_ " _No_. Not going on the roof. We're - uh - I think we need to go see how Buffy's doing on patrol."

"Buffy's right here, Xander," Tara said, tilting her head a little and it was true, Buffy had just come in the back door and was standing by the training room door, head cocked, listening. "Maybe you _do_ need to go up on the roof." Tara's voice was mild but the glint in her eye was wicked and Xander closed his in utter frustration. It didn't help that Ethan had apparently picked up on what was going on and was laughing quietly over his book.

_*Spike...Spike...I love you and I want you but for fuck's sake can we **not** have...shenanigans in front of everybody?*_

_*That's the fun of it, pet - see how far we can get-*_

_*You'd go all the way right here if I let you.*_

"Xander! I'm shocked. Not in front of the Bit!"

"Wha'? No way I said that out loud -" Xander looked up at Spike, who was grinning down at him. He reached and whapped half-heartedly at Spike's bicep. "Stop it, evil undead." Spike just smirked at him, showing fangs.

"Do I even want to know...anything?" Buffy said tiredly, coming over and dropping down onto the stairs. There were grass stains on her knee and thigh, and a scuff of grave-dirt on her chin.

"I very much doubt it," Ethan said, looking over at her with a small smile. "But if you like I can summarize. School, research, nerves, sex," he said, pointing at Dawn, Tara, Anya and Spike and Xander in turn. Buffy wrinkled her nose a little. She was gradually coming around to the idea of Ethan being a part of the group - of him being important to Giles. She didn't like it, but she wasn't actively causing trouble over it, which had frankly surprised Xander.

_*Too tired, maybe. She always looks tired.*_

_*It's tiring, being resurrected.*_ Spike fingers were wiggling in Xander's grasp but he held on resolutely.

"Well, I can't help with school, I'm too tired to research, I have _no_ idea what Anya has to be worried about since she's rolling in the green stuff, and please don't tell me one single thing about the sex 'cause...I'm actually just too tired." Buffy was slumped on the stairs, her hands limp between her knees, and her voice flat. She looked exhausted and depressed and Xander couldn't help but frown.

"I've got the school thing, if th-that's okay, Buffy," Tara said softly, and Buffy looked up at her and gave a wan sort of smile.

"Sure, Tara. It'd be nice if _one_ of us was actually learning something." Buffy had had to miss Fall classes at UCS - the deadline for signing up had come and gone while she was in the ground - and she'd taken it hard. Plus, the insurance money from Joyce's dying had suffered a severe dent from hospitals bills, and what was left was being nibbled away rather quickly by day-to-day stuff. Mr. Summers' child-support was generous but Buffy insisted that half went into a college fund for Dawn - just like her mother - and there just wasn't much left over. Tara was on student grants and loans and had even less to spare, and Willow was currently struggling with her parents long-distance to increase her living allowance. They were paying all her expenses through school, but had assumed she'd be in the dorms and not in a four-person household. They were being, as Willow said, real _schmucks._

_*Another thing that's really bugging her. Wish there was something…*_

_*No wishes, love. She'll be all right.*_

_*Easy for you to say.*_ Xander still wasn't completely happy about Spike bringing home - whatever he found, really. Two days after the Hellions had come through he'd retrieved his pillowcase full of stolen goods and later had shoved a wad of cash big enough to choke a horse into the 'petty cash' jar.

_*'Course it is, love. You take some of that and give it to the Slayer if it makes you feel better. But you **know** she won't like it. Probably won't even take it.*_

Xander sighed, watching Buffy poke half-heartedly at the mud on the side of her boot with a stake. Spike was right. He just wished that he could do something for Buffy. _*Oh. I can, actually. Spike?*_ Spike took a moment, examining the suggestion Xander had put in the link.

_*Why not, love? Can't hurt.*_ Xander lifted Spike's hands - kissed the knuckles and the long fingers.

_*Love you...*_ He took a long breath and looked over at Buffy. " _Taisbean_ ," whispered so softly. Tara and Dawn didn't notice, Anya was intent on her paperwork and Buffy on her shoes. But Ethan's head came up sharply and he stared at Xander, frowning.

"What are you up to, boy?" he murmured, and Xander felt Spike stiffen.

"Quiet, mage," Spike growled, and Ethan flicked a glance up at him but subsided, watching Xander. Xander did his best to ignore the swirling mass of color and sparks and _disturbance_ that was Ethan in the sight - he had no wish to see the Chaos mage's soul. Instead he looked at Buffy.

At first glance, she seemed the same, with the endless shifting of past Slayers obscuring and then revealing her own features. But the Slayers were different this time. Instead of being alert - on guard, almost - they were passive. Many had their eyes closed and they all seemed lost - sad. Buffy's own soul was as white as always, but there was a strangeness about it. There was a mark on the soul's forehead and it shone like a star. And there was something else...a sort of ribbon, or line that came out of the center of Buffy's chest and twisted away into the air, thinning and vanishing a few feet away. It seemed like….

_*Like a tether? A...line? Is that - Spike, look -*_ Xander put the image in the link and he felt Spike go very still - felt the vampire's fingers clamp down a little on his. Buffy got up, saying something to Dawn, and the tether shifted with her, as if she were attached to some invisible thing. It pulsed softly - pale and starry, and while Xander didn't feel anything particularly evil about it, it still didn't feel _right_.

And Buffy - did not feel right. The love was still there, for Dawn and for Giles - for all of them - but... Buffy _was_ tired - tired at heart, weary to her soul. Sick of killing, sick of struggling, longing with everything in her to be…. _*Oh god. Spike, does she -*_

_*Seems, pet. Seems she does. Red...really fucked up.*_

For once, Xander had to agree. Buffy was wishing that she was dead.

 

 

"This is going to cost a fortune," Buffy said glumly, looking down into the watery depths of her flooded basement.

"Well, maybe not a _fortune_ -" Xander started, and Buffy rolled her eyes at him. "Hey, I know some people who know some people...well, demons. I can get you a good deal." A demon corpse floated by like an overturned toy boat, bumping sadly against the stairs. Buffy stared down at it. 

"Plus, I have to get rid of that...thing."

"Oh, I'll haul it into the sewers, pet, be gone in a day or so, no worries," Spike said, clumping down to the waterline and looking speculatively at the corpse. He reached out with his toe and poked it, and the body shifted and started to float away.

"Grab it, quick! There's no _way_ I'm gonna wade through that mess to get it!" Buffy said urgently, and Spike sighed and put his foot onto the next step down - hauled the demon in by one horn. It lay across the steps and dripped, and they all stared gloomily at it.

"Nasty thing. Smells like a dog's bed. What the hell is it again?"

"I dunno. Dawn kept saying something about 'Mmm, cookies', and I could never figure out the actual name." Xander turned and went up the stairs and after a moment Buffy and Spike followed. They all sat around the kitchen island and Buffy made a face and pushed a pile of papers aside.

"God, I need a job. There's too many bills and now - the Cookie demon smashes half my pipes." Xander and Spike glanced at each other and Spike nodded, so Xander plunged in.

"Buffy, listen - I think I can help on the job thing. Manny said he'd be happy to take you on at the site. It wouldn't be anything - well, it'd just be lift-and-carry kind of stuff, you know. But it starts at twelve bucks an hour." Buffy looked at him, frowning.

"Manny is the demon you work for, right?" she said, and there was a slight edge to her voice.

"Yeeah... But he's the demon who kept your being - dead a secret and...he really helped me out with the house and everything. Not all demons are bad, Buffy. And if you worked with them you could kind of - show that the Slayer's not out to just - kill them all." Buffy looked thoughtful at that - sighed and put her chin on her hand, staring at the counter-top. "Besides," Xander added, looking at the pile of applications Buffy had shoved aside, "anything beats working at the Doublemeat."

Buffy made a face but nodded, then went back to staring at the counter. "Things were so much easier when I -" She stopped abruptly and shook her head.

_*Gonna say something, pet?*_

Xander looked over at Spike, who had one eyebrow up, looking at him thoughtfully. _*I... Think I should?*_

_*Can't hurt.*_

_*You always say that.*_

_*Been right so far.*_ Spike smirked at him, and Xander smiled back. He turned back to Buffy and reached out - touched Buffy's hand.

"Buffy - what's wrong? Can you tell us, please? You just - you seem so...sad." Buffy looked at him, her eyes very wide and very distant. She put her hand on his and squeezed gently, but didn't say anything.

"Haven't been to hell lately, Slayer, but I know a thing or two about it," Spike said softly, and Buffy blinked and looked over at him.

"Hell. Oh...yeah. You know, Willow keeps talking about that. About how I - I must be so happy to be...out of hell and back...here. Back home. But…."

"But what? Please, Buff...." Buffy closed her eyes for a moment, and then she looked right at him, and he could see fear and longing, misery and resignation in her face.

"When I died.... I don't know much about the afterlife or...stuff like that. But while I was dead, I was...happy. I was warm, and comforted...everyone I loved was safe.... And I could just - rest. I could just be. I remember feeling - so peaceful. Like when I was little and it would rain and I'd lie under the covers and know mom and dad were right down the hall...." Her hand slipped away from Xander's and she lifted it to her face - touched her forehead, where Xander had seen the mark like a star.

"Someone kissed me. I think - it was mom. She kissed me and I knew everything was fine. I could sleep, and dream...and it would all be okay, 'cause I was...done." She looked at Xander again - looked over at Spike, and her eyes were wet and luminous with tears that didn't - wouldn't - fall. "I think.... I wasn't in hell, and I wasn't being tortured. I was happy. I was - in heaven."

 

Heading home in Xander's truck, and Spike deliberately and thoroughly pushed visions of Willow wrapped in her own entrails out of his head. The misery coming from Xander was too palpable - too _much_ \- and he wouldn't add to it for anything. _*But fucking hell. She had better tread lightly 'round me. She's just - gone too far.*_ Spike sat silently in the middle of the bench seat, shoulder and hip and knee pressed into Xander's, his hand on the human's thigh, feeling each shift of muscle as he drove.

_*Love you. Family, Xander...we're family, we're safe and we're strong. We'll - figure out something. It'll be all right, love.*_ Spike had never thought he'd find himself thinking of ways to _help_ the Slayer, but her misery was Xander's misery, unfortunately.

_*Heart like a great soft marshmallow. Just wants to take and take and take, suck up all the bad. You'll kill yourself, love - there's too much bad in the world.*_

_*Can't leave her like that. Can’t ignore it, Spike. She's hurting so bad... I don't know - what to do. Should we tell Giles, do you think?*_

_*Dunno, pet. Maybe think on it. Talk to the wolf. He always has a good idea.*_

_*Yeah. Fuck, I just....*_ Xander sighed, and Spike knew what he 'just'. He just wanted to be with his family - with Spike. He just wanted to hold and be held and be told that everything would be fine. A great fat lie, but that was all right. Spike had one hundred and twenty or more years of lying under his belt, and he could do it as easy as _that_. And he could start right now. He turned his head and kissed Xander's cheek - his temple and the faint cross-hatch of lines that fanned out from his eye - legacy of days spent in the sun.

_*It'll be fine, love, just fine. Nothing we can't fix if we put our minds to it. I promise, pet.*_

_*Promise?*_

_*Cross my heart, love,*_

_*And hope to die?*_

_*And hope to die.*_

 

_______________________

W.H. Auden - _What's in Your Mind, my Dove, my Coney_ and _Miranda's Song_  
Chapter five - _Song of Solomon_


	8. Date

Spike looked down at his cards. _*Fucking full house! This is definitely my night!*_ He knew his face had kept its bland, slightly bored expression perfectly. He folded the cards up and laid them on the table - poured a drink and got a smoke and eyed the other players. On his left was a vampire who'd won on and off half the night and was currently 'off' and sweating (metaphorical) blood. Spike recognized the tell-tale signs of debt panic and had been milking it for hours. A furry sort of demon that Spike had only encountered long enough to kill, in the past, and who was currently looking at Spike with beady, suspicious eyes sat across from him, huge and hulking and drinking Mai Tai's. And Clem, of course, who just couldn't seem to stop playing even when he had the worst hand possible. Spike took another drink and picked his cards up again - fanned them.

"Right then. I suppose...I'll see you and raise...." he reached into the basket by his side and counted by feel. "Raise you ten." The furry demon clicked to itself and the vamp sucked in a nervous breath. Clem just slumped a little, looking sad.

_*Jesus. None of these wankers can keep a straight face.*_ Spike took a long puff on his smoke and glanced over as the door to the main barroom opened and Willy scuttled through. There was the sound of shouting and glass being broken, abruptly cut off by the slamming door.

"Hey, guys, hey, Spike," Willy said, and stood there for a moment, shuffling nervously from foot to foot.

"Willy," Clem said, and Spike nodded to the man. 

"Well, mate, you gonna raise or call?" Spike asked the vamp. The vamp looked at his cards and seemed to be doing some sort of mental calculation.

"Hey, Spike -" Willy said, and Spike sighed.

"You already said that, mate. You need something?" Spike looked at Willy, one eyebrow up, and Willy swallowed and brushed at his shirt - looked over his shoulder when a muffled crash came through the door.

"Yeah, uh, there's - there's this little problem up front with - with -"

"Spit it out, man, for fuck's sake," Spike growled, and Willy held his hands up in a 'don't hurt me' gesture. 

"There's a little problem up front with your - friend." Spike gave Willy a blank look as the man waggled his eyebrows and did some sort of hand-gesture, a sort of up and down motion that meant he was either gonna jerk off right there or -

_*Oh Christ. The **Slayer**? Does he mean -*_ "Are you talkin' about a...small, _blonde_ problem?" Spike asked slowly, and Willy grinned in relief, wincing when something smashed into the door.

"Yeah! That's the one! That's the problem." Willy looked pleadingly at Spike, and Spike sighed heavily, looking up at the ceiling.

_*Damn Slayer. She was no trouble when she was dead.*_ "All right. Let me just finish here -" Spike lifted his cards just a little, indicating the table and Willy looked at them - blinked and pursed his lips in a low whistle.

"Wow!" he said, and Spike briefly closed his eyes. 

_*Bloody bastard just gave away my hand.*_ He deliberately let the demon come to the fore and opened his eyes. Willy's own eyes went wide and he paled. 

"I mean - yeah, you - you finish that up then, Spike, and I'll just -" Willy shuffled away from Spike's murderous glare and the rest of the table folded practically simultaneously. Spike threw down his cards and grabbed his winnings, stuffing them into the basket he'd brought. He shoved cigarettes and lighter into a pocket, grabbed his bottle and stomped out of the back room.

 

"What in bloody hell were you thinking, Slayer?" Spike snapped, leading Buffy away from Willy's by one arm. Buffy yanked her arm free - reeled a little - and Spike grabbed her again.

"You just shut up, Spike! I was - I was just - letting off some steam, and - having a drink!"

"You're _drunk_ , Slayer! You beat up half the bar! You broke Willy's Elvis mirror! Bloody git loved that mirror! I'll be hearin' about it for weeks!" Spike whacked the side of his basket with the bottle and the high-pitched meows that were coming from it subsided. Buffy's eyes went wide, and she leaned towards Spike, staring at the basket.

"Are there _kittens_ in there? You have a basket full of _kittens?_ "

"Was playin' poker, wasn't I? It's the currency 'round here, for certain sets." Spike irritably got out a cigarette and lit it - looked hard at the wobbling Slayer who was still staring at the basket. "Listen, ducks, what were you really doing down here? It's not like you, the drinking and the fighting.... Well, not the drinking, anyway. What's up?" Buffy looked up at him and blinked, then abruptly pulled away and took a few steps down the street.

"I just - I feel like I'm...lost, Spike. I went with Willow the other day, to audit some classes? And I didn't understand anything! And - something weird happened. It was like - time was all messed up, and - and I was at the shop and it happened again only it was this crazy loop-de-loop thing that - and - at work -" Buffy sniffed and wiped her eyes, and Spike came up beside her, putting the basked of kittens down between his feet.

"I know, Slayer - Xander told me. Seems like you've got some enemies, yeah? Somebody messin' with you."

"It's just too much!" Buffy kicked at an empty beer bottle, sending it rolling wildly down the street. It crashed into the wheel of a large, black van and Buffy suddenly went still.

"That van. I've _seen_ that van. It was at the site. And - and outside the Magic Box. That van - is _stalking_ me." Buffy moved, breaking into a trot and Spike cursed and darted after her, losing the bottle in the process. It smashed wetly and he cursed again. He could see someone - male - behind the wheel, frantically starting the engine and then trying to put the van in gear. There was a grinding noise as he flubbed it and Buffy was at the door, yelling and pounding on the side panel.

"What are you doing! Why are you stalking me!" Buffy yelled, and Spike snarled and reached past her, grabbing the boy by his shirt-front and yanking him half out the window.

"Speak up, you bastard, what the hell -" Recognition flooded the wide-eyed face of the driver and hit Spike at the same moment. _Warren_ , who'd made the Buffybot and who'd escaped Glory's penthouse, never to be seen again.

" _You_ ," Spike snarled, and the boy jerked frantically at his shirt, popping a button.

"Johnathan!" he yelled, and there was a scurrying tumble in the back. Spike strained up on tiptoe and caught a glimpse of two more figures - blond hair and a pale face - and then there was a low sort of chanting and the _whump_ of displaced air. Buffy, who had been fairly successfully bending the door right out of the frame suddenly reeled back as a large, scaly demon slithered down from the top of the van right onto her. She went down with a yelp and Spike let the boy go to grab a double handful of dry, horny hide and try to sling the demon away. It whipped its head up, snarling, and lunged for his face and Spike stumbled back. Buffy was struggling upright and she leapt onto its back, gouging with a stake.

The van's engine revved and then it peeled out, leaving smoking tire-marks on the asphalt. A moment later Spike was snapping the demon's neck just as Buffy got her stake through its hide and the demon collapsed, dying twitches making it roll towards the gutter. Spike kicked it, hard, and looked in fury after the van.

"That bastard. That little _fuck_ -"

"Who _was_ that? Did you know him?" Buffy was looking in disgust at her jacket, which had demon slobber on it, and Spike grimaced and reached into his duster for his flask. He took a long drink and offered it to the Slayer, who wrinkled her nose, refusing.

"Yeah, I knew him. It was that little wanker that made the 'bot. Warren. Wondered where he got to. Guess he's the one followin' you, Slayer. And there were two others. He said 'Johnathan', and there was some blonde kid." Spike drained his flask and put it away - walked over to his kitten basket and picked it up.

"Well, at least I know who's been playing all those - stupid tricks on me." Buffy finally put her stake back in her sleeve and stumbled over to the curb - sank down with her elbows on her knees and her head hanging down. "Spike? Are you guys gonna - are you gonna tell Giles? What - I said about - being dead?" Her voice was shaky and small and Spike sighed - sat down next to her.

"You're just - making Xander and everybody nervous, Slayer. You're not acting -"

"Like somebody who's been 'rescued' from hell? I can't help it, Spike." Buffy looked up at him, and tears were making her makeup run, painting dark circles under her eyes and emphasizing the pallor and thinness that hadn't passed since her resurrection. "Everything here is so - hard, and cold and...violent. I was - glad to be done. Done being the Slayer. I was glad to be gone…. And trying to be - normal...trying to be...happy…. It's just so hard." Buffy wiped her eyes - sniffed, tipping her head back to look up at the hazy sky. "And it seems like, the harder I try, the harder it is, and just getting up - just _living_ \- is exhausting. I don't - don't think I can -"

"Now, Slayer," Spike interrupted, and she caught her breath in a sob and looked away, fighting for control. "I know it's hard, pet. I can't imagine - what you're feeling. But the Bit needs you, Slayer. Even if you give up on everything else, _she_ needs you. You should - tell 'em, Slayer. Tell 'em what Red did, and what's wrong. Maybe your Watcher can help. Or Glinda. They'd want to, you know." Buffy pushed her hands back through her hair - just sat there for a minute, her fingers squeezing her skull and her eyes wide and staring.

"I don't think I can, Spike. They'll _look_ at me,.they'll _pity_ me, and... I can't - let them all down."

"Not _about_ them, Slayer," Spike said softly, and they sat in silence for a long moment.

"Just - don't tell Giles, okay?" Buffy said finally, looking over at Spike. "Let me - let me do it. I owe him that."

"Sure, pet. If that's what you want." Buffy smiled weakly at him and went back to contemplating her shoes - or maybe the gutter, Spike couldn't be sure. He sighed and leaned back on his hands, looking at the thin curve of the new moon, idly finding Oz in the link, and Xander. Oz was just a low hum, contentment and lust and Spike knew he was with Derio. Xander was home, reading in bed and half asleep, tired from his week's work.

_*Be there in a bit, love,*_ Spike thought softly, and Xander sent back the mental equivalent of a hug and kiss; warm, gentle caress all through Spike's soul and he grinned into the night, shivering with pleasure.

"How did you know, anyway? You and Xander?" Buffy said, and Spike blinked - looked over at her.

"Xander saw it. Used that gift, you know - saw your soul. He could feel what you were feeling. Could feel that death-wish all twisting up around you."

Buffy shook her head slowly, and looked back down. "It's not - I don't…. Damn it, maybe I do. I don't _know!_ I'm just...so tired."

"Plenty of people to help you, Slayer. All you have to do is ask. You know that, don't you?" Spike had to smile at the small face she made then, looking over at him and almost laughing.

"You're supposed to hand me that totally illegal razor you keep in your pocket and tell me the best place to open up a vein, Spike. You're not supposed to be all - One-eight hundred-Life-Is-Great!" Buffy grinned, sniffing, and Spike grinned back.

"I wouldn't let you do that, Slayer - there are much better ways to go," Spike said, and flashed his fangs at her, leering. Buffy choked on a laugh, snorting, and for a moment they just laughed together. Then Spike pulled out a smoke and lit it, and Buffy sighed and wiped her eyes again.

"Xander would hate it if you did that, Slayer. They all would. And I won't let anything hurt my boy if I can help it. Or the Niblet, either. So best buck up. Go tell your Watcher and let him help, yeah? I can't keep Xander from tellin' him for too much longer." They'd _had_ that argument, and Spike had finally convinced Xander to let Buffy have a little more time, but Xander was worried, and fretting, and Oz too, so Spike figured he could help them by pushing the Slayer a little in the direction they wanted her to go.

"You...really love him. I mean - more than.... You just...love him."

" _Everything_ to me, Slayer. All," Spike murmured, looking straight at her. Buffy nodded and then a funny look came over her face and Spike raised an eyebrow. _*Jesus - is she gonna cry again?*_ "You all right, Slayer?"

"I think I'm gonna throw up," Buffy said, and Spike immediately scooted a couple feet away, tucking his duster protectively behind him.

"You go right ahead then, better out than in," Spike said, and Buffy did.

 

"Xander! We need more mandrake root!" Anya yelled over the music and the crowd-noise, and executed a tight little spin around him on her roller skates. He stared, fascinated, and she spun around and rolled away, graceful and…. _*Damn hot in those shorts. Where'd she learn to skate like that?*_

_*Been practicing all week,*_ Oz thought, sending a picture of Anya on her ass in the middle of the Magic Box, skates flailing. Xander choked back a laugh and pushed his way through the crowd, heading for the basement and mandrake root. They'd all agreed to help Anya with her big Halloween sale, and she had them all hopping like good little bunnies. He was pretty sure the door-bell hadn't stopped jangling all evening. _*Only no bunnies allowed. Heh. Should have dressed like a bunny,*_ Xander though, sighing with relief as he opened the door to the basement steps. He pulled his pirate eye patch off and went down. The damn thing was giving him a headache. It eliminated his depth perception and he'd tripped on the stairs in the shop proper a half-dozen times already. He _so_ did not want to take a header down the steep basement steps.

_*Told you, pet,*_ faintly from Spike, and Xander stuck out a mental tongue. Spike had opted _out_ of helping - using his 'No self-respecting Child of the Night is out on _this_ night' card. Which Anya totally understood, which was unfair. Xander had tried to argue that, as the _husband_ \- or whatever - of the evil undead, he should be exempt, as well, but Anya had just given him that _look_ . The one that said 'I wasn't the best Vengeance Demon for one thousand years for nothing, bucko', and Xander had caved. He'd left Spike on the couch, curled up in his oldest jeans and t-shirt and one of Xander's flannels, a copy of 'Woe to Live On' propped on his knees, the big bowl of Halloween candy and his bottle of Jack beside him. The couch was already littered with mini Hershey and Crunch wrappers and Xander had poked the vampire with his plastic pirate sword.

_"Don't eat all the candy, Spike! There's gonna be tons of kids out here."_

_"Sod 'em. Little buggers can go begging elsewhere," Spike had grumbled, reaching out and snagging a Pixy Stix._

_"No, no, no. You can't **not** give them candy - they'll TP the house!"_

_Spike tipped his head up, pouring pale pink sugar-dust down his throat. "I'll just show 'em my real face, then they'll leave me be."_

_"No, they'll say it's the worst mask they've ever seen and throw eggs at the DeSoto. Hellmouth kids are tough! Just - leave **some** for the kids, okay?"_

_Spike's eyes had gleamed gold at the mention of the DeSoto and he'd looked enraged and then disgruntled. "Why don't you just stay, love? Demon-girl doesn't need **everybody** -"_

_"Can't do it, Spike," Xander said, gleeful now at the prospect of Spike stuck opening the door to hordes of sugar-hyped seven-year-olds all night. "She'll do something nasty to my manly parts if I don't show up. You know how she is." Spike snarled a little but he nodded, defeated, and Xander leaned down and kissed him, chocolate and tart dust, cream and whiskey. A heady combination._

_"You be good and don't scare anybody and I'll let you teach me a new trick tonight, hrmmm?" he murmured, and Spike yanked him close for a hard, sharp-toothed kiss and Xander had driven to the Magic Box with his lips tingling and his groin throbbing, willing the night to pass quickly._

 

"Arrrgh! Mandrake root for the bonny buxom lassie!" Xander passed the root to Willow, who took it with a distracted, smiling 'thanks', Scotch tape fluttering from her fingers and her 'Dorothy' braids looking a little frazzled. Xander grinned and went off to stop a small Harry Potter from climbing a bookshelf and laughed at Oz, who was being harried by another Harry Potter and a fairy princess, both of whom were trying to out-do each other in the wand-waving department. Dawn was behind the counter as well, decidedly _not_ in costume, doing her best to wrap purchases in the fancy way Anya insisted on. Giles was earnestly trying to convince a trio of older granola-and-hairy-legs kind of woman that yes, datura _was_ a sacred plant in certain circles but they really did _not_ want to make datura-brownies for their monthly moon-sabbat. The women seemed determined and Giles was looking a bit panicky.

"Hey, Giles, can I help you?" Xander asked, waving his sword, and for a moment it looked as if the older man might just ask Xander to make the women walk the plank.

"Yes, yes you can - please get Tara for me, would you? Perhaps she can talk some - _explain_." Giles glared at the women and stepped closer, catching Xander's arm. "Do you think it would be terrible of me to just let them have their datura? It's not _certain_ they'll die a horrible death," he muttered and Xander stifled the hysterical laughter that threatened.

"You know - maybe I'll just take these ladies on over to Tara right now. Why don't you take a break, Giles?" Xander couldn't help grinning and Giles smiled reluctantly back.

"There are just so _many_ of them!" he said, and Xander nodded and patted Giles' shoulder.

"Giles. Stay British. You'll be okay. Now - ladies! Let me take you over to our resident witch, she has _all_ the answers." Xander herded the ladies over to the cloth-draped table where Tara was doing the occasional Tarot reading and answering questions dressed in a 'traditional' gypsy headscarf and voluminous skirts. The ladies squealed and descended on her, chattering. Tara mock-glared at him and he darted away.

"This is nuts," Buffy said, using Slayer strength to separate a Jason and a Freddy who seemed intent upon eviscerating each other. She was wearing a Xena costume and Xander poked her in the armor.

"Yeah - but at least it's just plain human nuts and not, you know - Hellmouth nuts," Xander said.

Buffy rolled her eyes. "I'm not sure it's any better. I can't actually slay any of the customers. Stop that!" Buffy darted after a miniature witch in a fluffy tulle costume who was trailing dried frogs from a torn-open box. The door-bell jangled again and Xander glanced up to see Dawn's friend come in.

"Hey, Janice!"

"Hey, Cap'n Hook." Janice grinned and waved at Dawn who shoved a wad of glittery tissue paper into Anya's arms and scurried out from behind the counter.

"At last! I thought I was gonna go crazy if I had to wrap one more idol. Let's get out of here!"

"Where are _you_ going?" Buffy demanded, popping up from gathering dried frogs and Dawn made a 'duh' face.

"To Janice's house? I told you about this last week. We're gonna hit the shops downtown for candy and then I'm spending the night. Remember?"

"That's tonight?"

"No - that's the _other_ Halloween, the one that happens in June. C'mon, Buffy, you said yes already!"

"But I don't _remember_ saying yes! That can't count." Dawn started to frown and Janice was looking a little desperate and Buffy finally sighed, shaking her head. "Right, fine. It's Halloween, nothing's going on - you guys go _straight home_ , all right? No - loitering around in cemeteries or anything."

"Ewww - as if," Janice said, making a face, and Dawn gave Buffy a quick hug, wincing a little when the costume's buckles dug into her ribs.

"Ow! That costume is hazardous," Dawn said, and Buffy took up a stance, fists on hips and chin at a haughty angle.

"No more hazardous than my mighty cleavage!" she crowed, and Dawn broke down into snarfling laughter. There was a running joke about 'the cleavage' that Xander wasn't privy to, but he'd caught muttered comments about duct tape and industrial strength glue, and decided he didn't want to know. The costume _did_ show off quite a bit of...Buffy.

_* **So** not going there. Oz, please, distract me,*_ Xander thought, watching Dawn and Janice hurry out the door.

_*Spike in a Xena costume?*_ Oz was sitting on the top step of the stairs to the loft and Xander looked up at him, giggling.

_*Oh God. Distracted now. How's it going?*_

_*Pretty good. He's staying nicely grounded.*_ After some discussion with Derio and then with Spike and Xander, Oz had volunteered to teach Ethan what he'd learned in Tibet. He figured if it could control the wolf than it might help the mage get his magic back under control. It seemed to be working, to an extent, but Ethan had suffered real damage at the hands of the Initiative and no matter what he learned from Oz his control wouldn't be complete until he was fully healed. Neither Giles nor Ethan knew when that might be, but the reduction in random magics - and the lessening of the out-of-control energy that had poured off the man for the first few weeks -was a relief to everyone.

Ethan seemed to have taken a liking to Oz, and at the moment he was sitting cross-legged up in the loft, meditating. Oz had thought the distractions of the shop would be a good test and had stayed close to him most of the night.

_*That's great, Oz. I don't think I could do that, in all this...chaos.*_

_*I think the chaos helps. It's his - baseline, I guess. He gets power from it. Only now he's controlling the chaos, if that makes sense.*_

_*Sure - like...a band. The crowd's all crazy and wild but if the band plays the right song they can calm everybody down - have 'em all swaying and holding their lighters in the air. Or have 'em riot.*_ Oz grinned at him, his green eyes sparkling out from under the afro wig he was wearing. He'd come as Jimi Hendrix and Ethan and Giles had both made him sing 'All Along the Watchtower'.

_*Exactly,*_ Oz thought. Xander turned from the stairs and surveyed the shop. Children milled and darted, fueled by the huge plastic pumpkin full of candy Anya had reluctantly provided. Parents and other adults were busily stripping the shelves in a show of holiday greed. Anya's fingers flew over the register keys and Xander noticed something sparkly on her left hand.

_*Wonder if that's the 'big announcement',*_ he thought. Anya had declared that they all had to stay until closing because she wanted to tell them something important - she'd even offered to order pizza and Xander knew there was a cooler full of soda in the training room. _*Nearly done here,*_ he thought at Spike, and received a blast of relief and irritation from the vampire.

_*Little bastards won't stop coming! **This** is why we hide out on Halloween - this is a bloody nightmare!*_ Spike complained, and Xander did a little jig over towards the 'Sumerian Mythologies' section of books where an elderly woman and a college age man seemed to be having a tug-of-war.

_*Only on the Hellmouth,*_ Xander thought.

 

"Oh. My. God." Buffy shut the shop door and locked it - flipped the sign over to 'closed'. "That was...just…."

"Incredible! Absolutely incredible!" Anya was still at her register, surrounded by piles of receipts, checks, charge slips and cash. She was practically dancing, and after a moment she _did_ dance. "You guys are the _best!_ I mean - look at all this money I made!" Giles coughed loudly and Anya paused in her hip-swivels. " _We_ made, of course. Isn't it wonderful, Giles?"

"Delightful. What _are_ you doing?" Giles was slumped at the bottom of the loft steps with Ethan a step up behind him, rubbing his shoulders.

"It's my dance of Capitalist Superiority! C'mon, join in!" Anya picked up some bills and fanned them - flourished them above her head."

"Ah - well, no, thank you. I'm a bit -"

"Exhausted?" Buffy said, flopping down on the other steps and tugging at her Xena skirt. Tara sat down next to her and Buffy pulled a length of gypsy skirt over her legs. "Jeez, how did she do _anything_ in this?" Buffy muttered.

"Well actually, you've worn...much more appropriate stuff on patrol. Yeah, exhausted," Xander held up his hands to ward off the death-glare Buffy was directing at him and Tara giggled.

"I can't believe there are that many people in Sunnydale into the occult! It's amazing we don't have more wacky stuff happening." Willow looked up from examining her stuffed Toto. Someone had stuck a half-sucked lollipop to its head and she frowned, tugging at it.

"Now if you guys'll just get cleaning -" Anya said, handing a broom to Willow and dustpan to Oz, "I'll order pizza."

"Hey, why don't I just do a little cleaning spell? Like Mickey in _Fantasia?_ " Willow sat up excitedly and Giles made a face behind her.

"Yes, we all know how well _that_ worked out. How about we do it the old-fashioned way?" Giles hoisted himself to his feet, groaning, and Ethan stood up as well.

"Come on, old man, sit back down. I haven't done a thing all night," Ethan said softly, and Giles smiled at him.

"It'll go quicker with all of us pitching in," he said, but dropped a quick kiss on Ethan's cheek. They both moved over to the counter and started gathering up tissue paper and bags and Willow stood up, wielding her broom.

"I'd like to think I'm a little more competent than a cartoon mouse," she grumbled, and Tara patted her arm as she walked by.

"Sure you are, honey. You've even got all your fingers, so no giant white gloves to over-compensate,"

"Which really, thank God, 'cause the big white hands give me the creeps." Oz followed Willow and Xander pushed away from the bookshelf he'd been leaning on and started gathering stray books into a pile.

 

It took almost forty minutes to get the shop back into shape - for the Post-Holiday Clearance Sale! Anya announced happily. She was met by a chorus of groans and Xander started babbling something about a post-Halloween blood ritual that he and Spike had to perform.

"Or we both die! A horrible, painful, messy death!" Anya just glared at him and Xander slumped in resignation. She went over to the loft steps and climbed up a couple - turned, facing them where they sprawled on the floor or sat at the table amidst a litter of pizza boxes and soda cans.

"Everyone! I have an announcement to make. You all remember Drake, my boyfriend?" They all nodded, and Anya looked thoughtful. "Well, maybe _you_ don't, Buffy, I mean you _were_ dead for almost five months -"

"Drake. Tall guy, brown hair, glasses. I met him last week, Anya." Buffy looked a little peeved, and Anya nodded.

"Okay, so. Drake. He asked me to marry him and I -"

"He did? Wow! Anya, that's great -!"

"Oh, c-congratulations, Anya!"

"Marry. Really? That's - that's -" Willow, Tara and Giles all spoke at once while Buffy just stared in shock. Oz and Xander exchanged eye-rolls and Ethan surreptitiously grabbed the last slice of anchovy-mushroom off Giles' plate.

"Well, I said I'd have to think about it, of course. I mean, you don't just leap into something like that! I had to talk to a couple of ex-girlfriends, and look over his retirement plan first. Things like that are very important. But yesterday morning, after we had our wake-up sex, I told him yes!" Anya beamed, looking expectant, and after a moment to catch up, everyone started the congratulations over again. Anya came down the stairs, holding her hand up and showing off her ring and Buffy, Willow and Tara bounced up to squeal over it, hugging the ex-demon.

_*Jesus. Do you think we'll have to be… **in** the wedding?*_ Xander had a sudden, horrible vision of a cousins' wedding years ago when he'd been tapped to be an usher. The drunkenness, the bickering, the last-minute hysteria and the brain-melting orange bridesmaid's dresses had made a vivid impression. _*Scarred me for life.*_

_*Maybe she'll just want us to play for free? We can hide backstage most of the night.*_ Oz had no better memories of family weddings, except his usually involved distant aunts and half-remembered second cousins pinching his cheeks and asking his mom when he was going to get his growth spurt.

_*God, that's awful. Maybe she'll elope.*_

_*Nothing wrong with weddings,*_ Spike chimed in. *Free food, free drinks, hordes of desperate, unmarried girls panting to dance with you and go for a snog in the broom cupboard. Me an' Dru had brilliant times at weddings.*

_*But everyone is supposed to survive this one,*_ Xander thought, and he and Oz laughed quietly together, picturing Spike facing down a half-drunk Harris or a 'concerned' Osbourne.

"Oh, we should party!" Willow was saying, and waved her hand. Suddenly bright paper lanterns and streamers appeared around the shop, a little glitter of magical energy dancing in the wake of Willow's fingers. Ethan flinched, looking sidelong at her, and Giles frowned while Anya clapped her hands.

"Oh! Very nice! This is only the first of the parties, too! There's my bachelorette party to plan, and my wedding shower - I'm told there are _lots_ of opportunities for presents at all these traditional functions!"

"Don't you think -" Tara said, and then bit her lip, turning away from Willow to pick up her soda and take a tiny sip.

"What is it, honey?" Willow asked, stroking her arm, and Tara turned back around.

"Willow, there's a party store j-just two blocks away. We could have gone down there and bought some decorations. You didn't need to do - this," Tara gestured around her and Willow smiled.

"Well, we _could_ have gone down there, but this was quicker! And - these are extra-good 'cause in a couple of hours, 'poof'! Nothing to put in a landfill!"

"Yeah, but - magic shouldn't be used for...just anything. For just everyday stuff." Tara was frowning a little, and Willow's own smile faded a bit.

"I just wanted to make Anya happy, Tara - it's not like I conjured up a - a Mariachi band or something! Although, I think I -"

"No! Willow, you just - magic isn't _for_ this! It's -"

"It's not a toy, little witch, and it's not a dare. Best listen to Jiminy Cricket." Ethan was still looking uneasy and Giles' hand was on his shoulder, rubbing just a little.

Willow bristled at his words and shot a glare at him. "You're one to talk. All I'm doing is - harmless stuff! Party balloons! You made people _die_ with your magic. I'm not killing anybody!"

"Not yet," Ethan snapped, and Willow opened her mouth again to say something but stopped when Tara touched her hand.

"Honey, don't. Please? Let's... I'm s-sorry, okay? I just wanted you to - to think about what you're doing, is all,"

"Tara, I _do_ -" Willow was interrupted by the phone ringing, and Anya waved her hand in the air.

"Don't answer, we're closed! Let's just look at these Bride magazines I've got." She moved towards the counter and Buffy followed her.

"Better answer, Anya - it might be Dawn."

Anya sighed, but flapped her hand at the phone. "Fine, go ahead. But if it's a customer we do _not_ do after hours deliveries. Unless they want to pay triple." Anya looked almost eager at that and Buffy just shook her head - picked up the phone.

"Magic Box - oh, hey, Mrs. Penshaw...no, we're _not_ home, this is the shop number. And Dawn's not here, she's staying over at your house... But she _said_.... Well, no, but.... Look, I'll go find them right now, okay? Yeah.... I'll call you." Buffy hung up the phone and turned to them in the sudden silence that had fallen. She was pale but her mouth was set in a hard line, and when she spoke it was obvious she was angry.

"Dawn and Janice aren't at the Penshaw's - Janice told her mom she'd be staying over at _our_ house. So my little sister and her friend are out running around on the Hellmouth."

It took five minutes to designate areas of the town and then they were gone, weddings, decorations, and magical misuse mostly forgotten.

 

"Don't know _what_ you were thinking, Bit, but don't you _ever_ think it again."

"But I didn't know he was dead! I only met him tonight!"

"So you were making out with a total _stranger_ on your very first date? Are you crazy, Dawn?"

"It's not like you never kissed a vampire, Buffy!"

"I _knew_ he was a vampire!" Buffy grabbed Dawn's arm and dragged her away at speed, lecturing at the top of her voice. Xander, Oz and Spike watched them go - turned to watch Giles and Ethan climb into their car and wave a weary goodnight. Willow, Tara and Anya had stayed at the store in case Dawn called or came by, the two witches still bristling and snapping at each other like wet cats.

"Well, that was a fine ending to the day. I think we need to go home and finish off the candy and watch 'Fight Club'," Xander said, and Oz raised his hand in the air, grinning.

"I vote yes."

"Two for me! Spike? What do you think?"

Spike started guiltily and tossed something away - a purple-and-white striped Pixy Stix tube. "I think we need to stop by the store," he muttered. "Little bastards cleaned us out."


	9. Song

Oz put his arms down and then _sat_ down, scrubbing his hands back through his hair and ruffling the dark green strands up wildly. "Ooookay. That was just -"

 _*Fuckin' weird,*_ Xander thought, toppling backwards, panting a bit.

 _*Too right, pet,*_ Spike agreed, and he hopped down from the rungs of the fire-escape ladder he was clinging to, looking around with gold-glowing eyes.

 _*Did anybody else think 'West Side Story?'*_ Spike and Oz looked over at Xander, who lifted his hands in a 'what?' kind of gesture. "Hey! I _do_ watch other stuff besides _Aliens_ and _Star Trek_."

"Who'd have thought 'other stuff' meant lame musicals?" Spike sniggered, and Xander, who was collapsed across a pile of empty crates, kicked half-heartedly at him.

" _You_ knew what I meant, so I guess you've seen it, too," Xander said, and Spike opened his mouth and then shut it. He hopped up onto a loading dock and sat on the lip, legs dangling.

"Dru loved Sondheim - made me take her to a revival of his, didn't she? Went for every bloody performance. Can't tell you how many times I've seen bloody _West Side Story_ and _Sweeny Todd_.... Rather liked that one," Spike added, digging around for his cigarettes and lighter and for a moment they all sat in silence, Oz drumming his fingers restlessly on the stack of pallets he was on and Spike swinging his heels against the graffiti-ed concrete of the dock.

"You suppose this happened to anybody else or was it just...us?" Oz wondered, and Xander sat up, pushing his hair back out of his face.

"Well, I guess we'll go see what Giles has to say… _or_ we could just call -" he added, when Spike gave him a _look_. This was supposed to be their night off - pool and drinks at the Bronze, movies, junk food, 'snogging' on the couch and an early bed-time where no sleeping would occur. Spike did _not_ want to go to the Watcher's house and get embroiled in all-night research or any other 'Scooby' business.

 _*Don't need to go see the old queens tonight,*_ Spike thought, puffing like a dragon, and Xander giggled at the mental image Spike provided with that - Giles and Ethan in slacks and cardigans, sipping tea from fussy cups, surrounded by stacks of books.

"They _have_ kind of gone off the research deep-end," Oz mused, and Spike and Xander both silently agreed. Ethan was getting _better_ , but so very slowly, and Giles was convinced his cure lay somewhere in the musty, leather-bound tomes he unearthed at second-hand shops in San Francisco, ordered over the Internet, or cajoled out of the few Council friends he had left.

Oz lifted his head suddenly, turning to look at the alley mouth, and Derio came around the corner.

"Hey -" Derio looked a little bewildered and Oz went to meet him, slipping an arm around his waist and getting a quick kiss. "I - couldn't find you inside, so I…." Derio's voice trailed away to silence and Oz hugged him a little.

"What's up, _amante?_ " Oz asked softly, and Derio grinned at him - shook his head.

"I don't - know. I was running a little late - had to drop some stuff off at the printers and - this man was there shouting about an order that was all screwed up? Really being a _pendeja, mi Dios_. And - then - the manager found the _right_ order and it was all fixed and - we - started singing about it." Derio looked at Oz - looked at Xander and Spike, a small, puzzled smile on his face. Xander sighed noisily and Spike cursed.

"What?"

"We just - did the same thing. The singing, I mean." Oz sighed as well and leaned his head on Derio's shoulder. "I guess we go by Giles' house after all," he said, and Spike cursed again. But he jumped down from the dock and grabbed Xander's hands - hauled him up and into a quick kiss.

"Come on, love, maybe it'll be quick and we can get straight to the shagging, right?"

"Do our best," Xander murmured, pulling Spike forward by the belt-loops for another kiss. After a moment they turned and the four of them walked out of the alley, headed for Giles house. With a glance at Spike, Oz started humming, and then Xander did and Derio joined them, looking puzzled still but smiling.

 _*Bloody Hell! Stop that!*_ Oz laughed out loud and started to sing, and Spike roared, but he was laughing too, and he couldn't help joining in, snapping his fingers along with Xander.

_"Here come the Jets...like a bat out of hell_  
_Someone gets in our way...someone don't feel so well…_  
_Here come the Jets...little world step aside…_  
_Better go underground...better run, better hide…."_

 

"Does it really _matter_ if we find out what's behind this? I mean - singing and dancing, it's not _that_ bad." Buffy spoke from a face-down position on the table at the Magic Box and Anya paused beside her to pat her head.

"Of course it matters, Buffy. It might have _started_ as just singing and dancing, but now people are going up in flames! At this rate, I won't have any customers left, and paying for the wedding will be difficult. Drake's offered to pay half, of course, but if I let him do that he'll want to _arrange_ things." Anya shook her head indulgently and moved on, and Xander, sitting across the table, shared a look with Buffy. Drake was studying forensics with a sort of manic glee and only Anya labored under the delusion that bridesmaid's dresses, seating charts, and 'first dance' song choices could drag his attention away from five-day-old corpses and mysterious stains.

 _"At least he fits in,"_ Dawn had remarked, and he _did_ , to the extent that Anya had finally told him everything about Sunnydale - and herself. It had taken him most of a day to process and then he'd showed up at a Scooby meeting at the shop, notebook in hand and an expression of utter determination on his face. He'd come along on patrol, made notes, and gotten elbow-deep into a Nyrn demon Spike had killed. Spike had taken him for a drink. He was currently doing a side-project of his own, cataloguing the various demons Buffy or Spike killed, and he kept popping up at odd moments during patrols or at the Bronze to ask questions or beg a tissue sample. Spike encouraged him, Anya lectured, and everyone else found it secretly disturbing. But also endearing and they were happy Anya had somebody that knew her secrets and accepted them.

"What's up, Buffy? You're not your normal spunky Slayer self," Willow asked, shifting a pile of books to one side. Tara, across the table from Willow and looking intently through an old herbal, glanced up at Willow for a moment, the expression on her face unreadable but….

 _*Wow, that was....*_ Xander shivered just a little. Tara's look - had chilled him. _*Something's going on, there.*_

 _*Dawn said they had a bad fight about magic but - when she mentioned it this morning Tara acted like nothing had happened.*_ Oz, over on the loft stairs with Derio looked troubled and Xander glanced at Tara again, who was now smiling softly at Buffy.

"You do seem kind of t-tired," Tara said.

"Oh, I'm - I'm okay, I guess." Buffy sat up and brushed her hair back - idly picked up a pencil and began tapping it on the table. "I - I went to see Angel a couple of days ago."

_*She **what**?*_

"You _what?_ " Willow looked concerned, and Buffy smiled wanly at her.

"Well, I kind of had to, you know? He - found out I was - back and…. It just seemed kinda mean to ignore him. I mean -" Buffy sighed and tapped the pencil a little harder, and Willow reached out and put her hand on Buffy's, stopping the nervous motion.

"So - how was it? Was it awful or was it - okay? Are _you_ okay?" Buffy let the pencil go and locked her hands together in her lap - looked over at Oz and Derio sharing a book, and at Xander who had stopped his own research. He smiled when she looked at him, and she smiled back.

"I thought it would be - terrible. I thought - it would be this huge...ordeal. But it was.... You know, I think he might be falling in love with Cordelia."

"You do?" Xander didn't know what to feel about that. Cordelia had really been his first love - _real_ love, as opposed to schoolboy crushes or schoolboy lust, and it felt - odd - to think that someone else could see the sweet side of Queen C. Especially when that someone was deadboy.

"Yeah. He talked about her a little bit. _After_ I told him about a hundred times it was okay and he could. It was...really nice to just sit and _talk_ , you know?" Buffy smiled again, only this smile was directed inwards, and softened the angular planes of her face - took the tired droop out of her shoulders. "It was like...we finally _connected_ , you know? Not Slayer and Vampire or Hero and Heroine or any of that, just...two friends. It was good."

"Wow. That's - not something I ever thought you'd say about dead - about Angel," Xander said, and Buffy laughed lightly, standing up and gathering a stack of books.

"Me neither. It wasn't ever true before. Even _Spike_ knew that - way back when. But I think it is now. We've both kind of - grown up."

 _*'Bout time,*_ came Spike's mental grumble, and then he was coming through the door, shoving a bizarre figure before him. An apparently normal man from the neck down with what appeared to be a huge dummy head from the neck up. It wobbled and almost fell, and Spike kicked it. "Look what was lurkin' 'round outside, then," he growled, and the thing cowered.

"Ooh, is that what's been causing this off-Broadway nightmare?" Anya asked, coming around the end of the counter. She hefted a chunky idol off a shelf and looked at it consideringly. "Are you the jerk that's putting my wedding in jeopardy?" She raised the idol threateningly and the creature and Spike both took a step back.

"Nah, it's just a servant, like," Spike said. "Oi! Watcher! Best get out here." Xander went to stand next to Anya and a moment later Oz and Derio joined him. As Giles and Ethan came out of the office, Buffy moved up closer to the creature as well, looking pissed off.

"So, what's the story?" she said, and Spike kicked it again.

"Sing, you little bastard," he growled, and the figure puffed itself up, arms outstretched - and spoke.

"My master has the Slayer's sister. She called him and he came, and at midnight he's going to take her back with him to the underworld to be his Queen. Until then, he's waiting at the Bronze." A collective groan went up from the assembly and the creature looked as puzzled as it was possible to look with a giant dummy head.

 _*How in hell did it get Dawn? Gonna have somebody's head for cricket,*_ Spike snarled, and Xander took a hard breath.

 _*Pack pack pack,*_ from all of them, fear and anger kick-starting the wolf and hyena into super-protective mode, and feeding fuel to the never-dimming flame of malice and bloodlust that was the demon.

"I'm sooo tired of fighting evil at the Bronze. Can't we just make that like - Sweden, or something? And why am I not surprised Dawn is involved in this?" Buffy groused, and Anya reluctantly put down her idol. 

"Well, at least you know where to go to make all this madness stop. Hurry up and kill his master, I can be open late tonight." The creature stumbled back at that and tried to make a dash for the door, and Spike caught it and snapped its neck with a growl - dropped it to the floor.

"Spike! I can't have customers stumbling over a dead...puppet-headed thing! Take it to the dumpster!" Anya stomped irritably into the office and slammed the door, and Spike rolled his eyes.

"Christ, wish she'd just elope," he grumbled, but he hoisted the creature up and began dragging it towards the back entrance.

"So, Dawn called this - demon - and now it's gonna drag her off to be Queen. You know - I'm tempted to let it. See if some supernatural creature can take her. Bet he sends her back in a week." Buffy was scowling and Giles moved towards her, a faint smile on his face.

"Really, Buffy, as much of a - a _teenager_ as she's being, we can't leave Dawn to the - horrors of an arranged marriage. Besides, untold retribution may rain down upon us if she angers this - song demon." 

"Oh - probably not," Ethan drawled, and everyone looked at him. He held his hands up in a gesture of innocence and Xander felt the anger boiling up from Spike, who dumped the body in the training room and stalked back into the shop proper.

_*Bastard had better not have known all this time. If Dawn's hurt -*_

_*Calm down, Spike - let him talk.*_ Xander grabbed at Spike's arm and stopped the vampire from going any closer to Ethan.

"What're you goin' on about, mage?" Spike growled, and Ethan flashed a wolfish grin at him.

"Just that Sweet won't actually harm her. _Or_ take her. Dawn didn't call him. I did."

" _What?_ " The chorus was loud and, in Willow and Buffy's case, a little shrill and Ethan stepped back one step, hunching his shoulders just a bit.

"Oh, I know Sweet from...other places. He mostly just likes to cause a little chaos. He gets people to sing out their secrets. Really, it can be rather amusing. This - bursting into flames thing is rather new, though."

" _Ethan_ ," Giles said, and his tone was one of long-suffering and barely leashed anger. Ethan looked over at him and smiled again, his voice going soft.

"Oh, Ripper. I'm just getting so _bored_ , pet. Sweet won't take her, since I did, in fact, do the summoning. Just go confront him, do a little song and dance, and he'll be gone. He knows better." Ethan's voice was cajoling - caressing, and Giles sighed, shaking his head. He reached out and touched Ethan's hand where it lay on the counter.

"Really, Ethan, you _cannot_ do these sorts of things -"

"No you bloody well can't," Spike snapped, shaking Xander off and pushing past Willow and Tara to go toe to toe with the mage. "If the Bit has _one_ scratch on her I'll come back here and show you my favorite way to get marrow out of thighbones. Think you'd like that?" Ethan's eyes darkened, a seething flash of something and Spike hissed, vamping out. Giles hastily got between them, pushing Ethan backwards towards the office and Xander moved forward as well, shooting Ethan a dark look and tugging at Spike's sleeve.

_*Spike, calm down, okay? Let's just go get Dawn -*_

_*Protect pack.*_ Oz was closer too, glaring at Ethan who lowered his head, mock-submission. His grin still curled the edges of his mouth up though, irrepressible and unrepentant.

"He _won't_ be doing anything else. Ethan, you go and - help Anya in the office. We are _not_ through speaking about this. Dawn must be rescued - again. Back _off_ , Spike," Giles added, a touch of the _*darkman*_ in his voice and Spike shot him a look of pure menace and whirled around - stalked out. There was a moment's silence and then Buffy grabbed a stake and a knife out of an open weapons bag and darted after Spike.

"Wait up, Spike! _I'm_ the one that's supposed to be riding to the rescue!" The door-bell jangled as they left, and Giles heaved a sigh.

"I suppose I _should_ go along, just in case...anyone else?"

"Sure, Giles, we'll come," Xander said, and he and Oz and Derio walked across the shop and up the stairs, grabbing weapons of their own. Giles took an axe and followed them, and a moment later they were out the door. A few paces down the sidewalk and the bell jangled behind them. Xander turned to see Tara coming out of the shop, looking angry, and Willow trailing behind her, a sullen look on her face.

 _*Got the whole gang coming,*_ he thought, and there was a snort of amusement from the shadows up ahead. Spike was lounging against a wall, smoking, and fell into step with Xander as they came even with him.

"Slayer wanted to go on ahead - I figured I'd wait for you. Make a better entrance, the whole gang like this, all - determined." Laughter in the link, but Spike's hand found Xander's and they walked briskly to the club in a comfortable silence. When they got to the Bronze, Buffy had kicked the door in, and they went in.

 

 _*You know, I think I hate musicals now,*_ Xander thought, lying on his back in bed. Spike was doing something over by the dresser with his jeans and after a moment he slipped in beside Xander - eased himself over on his elbows and got one thigh between Xander's, his mouth dipping down to kiss shoulder and collarbone, sternum and jaw. Low voices from Oz's room - Derio's soft laugh - and then quiet.

_*Least everyone knows about the Heaven thing.*_

_*Oh, yeah, that was just...great. Not only does Willow take Buffy out of Heaven, she uses some sort of...mind-control spell on Tara to make her forget that they had a fight. And it all comes out at once.*_ Tara's white, betrayed face - her shaking voice - had made the three of them close ranks, surrounding Tara and blocking Willow out.

 _"How could she," Tara whispered, hugging herself, "After what G-glory did...how cou-ld she just - erase part of my mind? Erase my meh-memories? Oh God - what if...."_ Oz had told Tara to come home with them - spend the night, but she had sniffed and straightened - shaken back her hair.

_"No. Wu-we have to - deal with this. We h-have to talk it out. Th-thank you for asking, b-but I have to go home t-tonight."_

_*Red had better come up with a damn good apology for that,*_ Spike grumbled, but then the link went to nothing but sensation, and Xander happily dismissed the witches - the whole evening - from his mind until later.

 _*Now is **this**...Spike...love....*_ Xander sighed in pleasure as Spike's mouth moved down his body, licking and gently biting, sucking and caressing. He shivered when Spike took the head of his cock into his mouth and then grumbled in inarticulate disappointment when the slick suction moved away. A moment later, though, he hissed and arched in pleasure as Spike slid himself slowly down Xander's length. Spike rested one hand on Xander's chest, the other on his thigh and worked himself languidly up and down, his head falling back and the moon-pale arch of his throat gleaming in the dimness. Sensation and emotion coiled between them, no distinction of _Spike_ and _Xander_ , just _us, us, us._

_*Love, love...holding me... God... sparks, like... needles and hot and… **oh** , there, just... yeah, like...icefire in me in you this is...love...my, mine...blood and... honeysweet, God....just... don't stop, don't...see you, love you... demon, my own, my...never enough... fuck, how you make me... yours, just yours mine yours always... yes...*_

The link was babble - the sudden spillover from Oz _*hot salt hot need, oh need....need tooth bite sweet ice cold flame yours ours yours **nine** *_ was deliberate and heady and Xander thrashed, groaning. Reached up to yank Spike down to him and maul the vampire's mouth with his own - thread his hands through silken hair and find the cicatrice of the claim-scar and take it into his mouth - split it open with snapping teeth. Spike mewled in pleasure, his body like a vise around Xander, his hips still pumping and his own fangs scraping and prickling and sinking deep. The shivering jolt of magic-laced blood was like a shock - like a blow - and Xander's body went hard and tight, arching up, nails drawing blood. Spike's muscles convulsed, drawing him deeper and the cool, slick flood over their bellies smelt of sea and clover and pepper - smelt of magic and _otherness_ , and the link was like a wave that rolled over them and took them down; low, grumbling moan of the wolf and the contented purr of the demon.

 

The door to the shop basement clicked shut and Giles glanced up to see what had made the noise - did a double-take, fumbling the stack of papers he was looking through. "Oh good Lord," he said, and let his head drop down onto his hand. Buffy and Anya, standing next to him at the counter, looked puzzled and then a huge grin came over Buffy's face and she started to giggle.

" _Don't_ push it, Slayer," Spike growled, but Buffy just kept laughing and a moment later Anya joined her. Spike growled again, for _real_ this time, and stomped down the Magic Box steps. Well, mostly stomped. The stupid shoes didn't stomp well, and the stupid jacket didn't flare and snap like his duster, and….

" _Spike!_ " Dawn squealed, wide-eyed and she doubled over in laughter too, clutching the back of the chair she was sitting in in an effort to hold herself up. "Oh my _God_ , I can't believe - oh my _God!_ " Dawn choked out, gasping.

"You dared me and I _did_ it, Bit. Now you have to take that class." Spike smirked at her and sat haughtily on the loft steps, wincing at the rasp of cheap twill over his wrists. The suit was moth-bally, ill-made, and looked…. The door-bell jangled.

_*Fucking hell. You look -*_

Spike groaned and clutched his head in his hands. _*You're supposed to be working late!*_

 _*Had a complete fuck-up at the site - **not,** my fault - so, no. I'm here. Just in time, apparently. What are you...doing?*_ Xander stumbled down the steps and came to a halt in front of Spike. Taking in the tweed slacks and dress shoes, the collared, buttoned-up shirt and tie, the tweed jacket, the -

_*Vest. You're wearing a **vest**?*_

_*Waistcoat, you wanker.*_ Spike didn't lift his head, and a moment later he felt Xander's hands gently pushing his away and combing through his hair. He'd deliberately left it alone - not a bit of gel or anything else - and Xander's fingers teased the loose curls, tugging gently.

 _*Love your hair like this, like you just woke up...like you just got fucked….*_ Spike looked up sharply, grinning, and Xander let his fingers trail slowly out and away. He grinned back and then sat down beside Spike, leaning hard into him. "So why the sudden - Gilesification, Spike? What's up?"

 _*Yeah, what?*_ Oz and Derio emerged from the training room, Oz shirtless, with dust all over his shoulders and hands and Derio carrying a toolbox. They'd been installing a sound system so Buffy could have music when she worked out. She'd accidentally 'slayed' two boom-boxes, one with a poorly-aimed stake, the other with a kick and Giles had declared a moratorium. They'd all figured Buffy'd have to work pretty hard to slay something that was up in the rafters.

"Is _every_ sodding person here today?" Spike grumbled.

Buffy sauntered over from the counter, still pink-faced from laughing. "Well, Ethan's not here. Not yet. But he's bringing Giles' tea so -" The tinkle of the door-bell interrupted her and she grinned, eyebrows going up. "So I'll bet that's him!"

"And us!" Willow called. "We thought we'd join - holy God. Spike?" Beside her Tara gaped for a moment and then put her hand over her mouth, stifling laughter, and Ethan blew him a kiss. Spike had had enough.

" _Right_. That's _bloody well_ it!" Spike stood up and paced over to Dawn, scowling. "Niblet kept sayin' how she wanted to sing, wanted to _do_ something but she wouldn't take the classes, would she? Said she was too shy! I ask you!" Spike shot a fierce look at Dawn who tried to look solemn but failed. Derio put the toolbox down and brushed a cobweb out of Oz's hair, staring at Spike with an expression of utter fascination.

"So, I told her - go ahead, dare me something. Told her if I took the dare she'd have to take the classes, these - voice or singing or whatever they bloody well are. And I _won_ , Bit, so Monday -?"

"I'll be signing up." Dawn sighed, looking down for a moment, then she looked back up at Spike, grinning again. "I said you had to dress _exactly_ like you used to!"

"Well, close as I could get without going to some museum or other, Bit -" Spike started, but Dawn shook her head, holding up a hand.

"No, that's not what I mean. I mean - where's your glasses, Spike?"

" _Glasses?_ " Buffy choked, and Spike vamped, snarling at her. Then he took a deep breath and pulled the demon back - reached into the inner pocket of the jacket and pulled out a pair of cheap spectacles. They sold them at the chemist's, no prescription needed, and these had the least magnification he could find.

 _*Sodding things give me a headache,*_ he grumbled, but he opened them and slid them on. "Yes, Slayer, _glasses_. Ruined my eyes peering at this or that bugger's cramped-up scribblings, didn't I? You try reading by candle-light for fifteen years, see what it gets you." He looked up at the group, unconsciously lifting his chin. Total silence greeted him.

"Good Lord," Giles said faintly, and beside him Ethan ran a glittering, speculative eye over the vampire. The girls were staring with various expressions of amazement, and Derio and Oz looked….

 _*Somehow, you make tweed sexy,*_ Oz thought, and Spike could see the same thought in Derio's eyes - saw him slip an arm around Oz and grin into the wolf's dusty green hair. And Xander...was lost. Memories flooding him, memories that Xander was re-living - deliberately searching for.

_*Walking across Hyde Park, heading for a particularly secluded bench, anticipation and joy centered on the brand-new book that was tucked under his arm. Browsing for hours in the bookstalls at Charing Cross. Sitting in the parlor with Mother after supper, listening to the quiet click of knitting needles as he read aloud to her. And oldest and most dear, huddling in the tiny space between bed and wall, the candle set carefully on an old box. Mother's faded India shawl around his shoulders and his legs going numb, his feet freezing as he read, read, read, while the old clock downstairs chimed out eleven and midnight and one a.m. and thirteen-year-old William fell asleep sitting up, dreaming of King Arthur and Captain Nemo....*_

_*Love....*_ Xander was smiling at him and Spike smiled back, his _real_ smile. He hadn't thought of his books - his little den - for so many years, despite the growing library they were accumulating at home.

 _*Some of my best times, those. After Father died.*_ Xander gently took the jacket lapels in his hands and drew Spike close - kissed him softly. _*I look a right nancy.*_

 _*Beautiful no matter what,*_ Xander contradicted, and pulled back - tucked a lock of hair behind Spike's ear.

"Wow -" Buffy said, and then a soft grey haze rolled in, and everything vanished.

 

 _*Ow, ow! Damn - slept funny - ooh, my neck -*_ He sat up slowly, rubbing at a cricked and throbbing neck and shoulder, and looked around in confusion. The - room? was dim, lined with shelves of books and jars of things, candles and statues. There were other people as well, sprawled over the floor.

_*What in Hell...? What the fuck am I doing here? I should be...I should...who...? Oh God, who, who am I? I don't -*_

_*Don't panic!*_ A voice said, in his head. Hard voice, clipped and calm. _*Head injury or shock can cause temporary amnesia. Let it go - it's not a priority!*_

"Yeah, right," he muttered.

"Huh?" a voice said, and he looked around wildly - spotted a blonde woman over by some steps, sitting up slowly. She looked around, her expression utterly confused, and then stood up - crossed to a wall and flipped a switch. Lights came on overhead and he looked around in shock and growing dismay at the -

 _*Eight… **nine** people! All - passed out? Fuck, please be passed out. And - wow - damn big dog.*_ He moved, getting his legs under him so he could stand and his hand came down rather heavily on an arm and he recoiled. _*Whoa. He's pretty close. Was I - protecting him? Did something happen? Gotta - check for injuries, gotta -*_ Something stirred, inside, some knowledge and he crouched over the suited figure beside him, reaching to take a pulse. His fingers found cold flesh - no pulse at all -and he felt his mouth go dry.

"Oh fuck, I think this guy's - d-dead."

"What?" The blonde woman stumbled over, eyes wide, and he reached out again, pressing his fingers into the pale, cool skin of the other man's throat.

"I can't feel a pulse. Here - you - you stay with him and I'm gonna see if - if anybody else is hurt. Do you know - what happened?" The blonde shook her head, staring at the dead man, and he stood up and looked around - went to the nearest figure, a teenage girl with long dark hair. He hesitated for one moment and then he put his fingers to her neck, taking in a huge breath of relief when he felt a strong, solid heartbeat. As he pulled away her eyes popped open and she squealed, scuttling back away from him.

"Don't! D-don't hurt me!"

"Hey! No hurting! I wasn't -" He held his hands up, palms out, keeping his voice low. _*Keep her calm, don't let anybody panic, just assess the situation and move on.*_ The voice in his head seemed to know what it was talking about - the advice _seemed_ sound - so he just waited, watching the girl. The blonde had jerked, startled, when she'd cried out and now she moved closer, holding her hand out.

"Hey - it's okay. He was just making sure you weren't hurt. He won't hurt you - _I_ won't hurt you. It's okay."

"What's going on?" It was one of the two older men - glasses and short, graying hair - and he was sitting up, looking around muzzily.

"We - we don't know. I'm checking for injuries. This guy - _Fuck me!_ " The 'dead' guy was sitting up, irritably rubbing his head, and he shot to his feet and stumbled away. The blonde woman let out a tiny shriek and scrambled away as well, pulling the teenage girl with her and holding tightly to her hand.

"What in _bloody hell_ is going on? Why are you people being so damn loud?" The dead guy - _*well, no, live guy!*_ coiled gracefully to his feet and looked around - took off the glasses that were perched on his nose and regarded them with puzzlement, then put them away in his jacket.

"I th-thought you were dead! I felt for a pulse and I couldn't - you were cold!"

"I'm not _dead_." The - living guy - stared at him and he stared back, something tickling at the back of his mind, something...urging him?

_*What the hell? So, he's not dead and...God, he's fucking - amazing, his eyes….*_

_*Get back to the others!*_ that little voice insisted, and he blinked and looked around. "Look - I don't know - what's going on. But we need to see if anybody is hurt and we need to - figure out what we're doing here. I'm -" Sudden and utter panic, because when he'd tried to introduce himself - nothing came.  
_*Nothing! Oh my God - it's not coming back.*_ "Jesus, I - I can't remember my name," he said shakily, and the blond man's eyes went wide.

"What kind of a person doesn't know their own name?" the blond man asked, and he shook his head, trying to stay calm.

"I dunno. What's your name?"

The blond man opened his mouth - shut it and than opened it again and then slumped, defeated. "I - dunno. Bloody hell! What about you two, d'you have names?" he asked the girls, and they both looked confused.

"I - I'm... Oh!" The blonde woman reached out to the teenager, lifting a little gold necklace in her fingers. "This says 'Dawn' - I'll bet that's you!"

The brunette smiled, looking relieved. "Or 'Umad'," she said, looking down, and giggled. The blonde rolled her eyes.

"Steady on, then," the older man said, and another man - this one also older, but ill-looking; thin and pale, rose shakily to his feet, leaning on the counter and looking around him.

"What on earth -?" he asked, and the blond man made a sort of amused noise.

"Well, that's three of us for the Queen - any more, or are the rest of you all Yanks?" They all looked around as the other people - a red-haired woman, another blonde woman and a woman with light brown hair, and a young man whose dark-brown hair was in dreadlocks all stirred, sitting up and then standing. They all shared the same air of fearful confusion. The dog was the last to rouse and it looked around at them - lifted its head and let loose a quavering howl, eerie and too loud in the confines of the shop.

_*Has to be a shop - there's a register - but...what kind of weird shop **is** this?*_

"Ah! Make it stop!" Dawn said, hands over her ears, and the dreadlocked man - who'd woken with the dog draped over his legs - reached out hesitantly and petted it, tugging the mane of dense, auburn hair around its neck and shushing it. After a moment the dog quieted and leaned against the man, watching them with feral, jet-black eyes.

 _*Right - okay... How do we figure out who we are? Gotta be some way to identify...I.D.!*_ "Hey! Everybody - check and see if you have a wallet or a - purse or something. Maybe we can figure out who we are that way." They all began to check, patting pockets and looking gingerly through the various packs and bags that had been close to them when they'd woken. In all, it was amazingly successful.  
The two older men were Rupert Giles (with glasses) and Ethan Rayne, the dreadlocked man was Desiderio Padovani, the red-haired woman was Willow Rosenberg, and the taller blonde was Tara Maclay. The shorter blonde woman didn't have any I.D on her at all, and neither did Dawn. The brown-haired woman didn't seem to have I.D. either, but she poked around behind the counter and came up with a purse - lifted a driver's license out and checked it against her reflection in a small compact.

"I'm Anya Jenkins!" she said, grinning, and they all smiled back.

"And I'm - Alexander Harris." A rush of relief came over him at that - as if merely knowing his name somehow made things better, and he heaved a small sigh. _*So...Alexander. Alex, I guess.*_ "So - everybody has a name but you and you," Alex said, pointing in turn to the small blonde woman and the suited not-dead man, who rolled his eyes.

"Actually, I _do_ have a name. But good God -" He held out his jacket, where a small placket of material was sewn, with some writing on it. "'Made with care for Randy'. What am I, bloody three years old? You probably thought it was a right good joke," Randy said, glaring at Rupert, who recoiled slightly from the fierce blue gaze.

"What? _Me?_ Why in the world are you accusing _me_ of - of _that?_ " Rupert waved his hand at the jacket and then turned with a startled noise to Ethan, who was reeling a bit. "Good lord, man, are you all right?"

"Just - just a bit dizzy. I really feel I must sit down," Ethan said faintly, and Rupert led him over to the chair that Tara hastily vacated. "There now, all right? I don't suppose there's any chance of some tea -" Rupert said helplessly, looking around, and Anya perked up.

"Oh! Maybe there is. I'll go look." She turned with a determined air towards what looked like an office but Willow stopped her.

"Do you really think that's a good idea? Snooping around? I mean - this place is pretty weird with the - magic books and stuff...." She held up a book that said _'Magic for Beginners'_ on the cover, and they all regarded it with varying degrees of interest.

"Magic! A bunch of balderdash," Rupert scoffed, and Anya frowned at him.

"Better not say that in front of the customers! Look - right here it says that you and I own this shop." She indicated a messy stack of papers that she had been looking at a few moments earlier. "And if we own this shop then it stands to reason that we believe in magic." She nodded decisively and Rupert looked thoughtful. "Also, there's probably a kettle and some teabags or something back here since I'll just bet you're not the kind of guy who gets a _latte_." Anya turned and marched into the office and Alex shrugged.

"She's probably right. Listen - Randy - what's the deal? Why are you all - accusing Rupert of...your name?" Randy snorted, his hands feeling over his pockets and coming up with a pack of cigarettes. He looked at them in surprise and then shrugged, tapping one out.

"Well, we're both Brits, for one. And _that_ -" he added, pointing at Ethan with the cigarette, "has got Oscar bloody Wilde stamped _all_ over it. Plus - look how we're dressed! Must be 'drag your son to work and bore him stiff' day." Randy finally found a lighter - a sleek silver Zippo - and lit up, inhaling deeply. Rupert glanced down at this own slacks and tweed jacket, bewildered, then made the connection.

" _Son?_ " he squeaked, looking less than pleased. "There _is_ a certain feeling of...familiarity." He frowned, then moved to stand by the counter, looking at the papers Anya had indicated.

 _*Oscar Wilde? He was...oh! He was that English guy...that **gay** English guy! Is Ethan gay? Well….*_ Alex shrugged mentally, not caring. _*Gay, straight, he can't remember any more than the rest of us, so…. And besides, I don't know if Randy's gay but...he's fuckin' **hot**. And so is that Desiderio guy. So - maybe I'm a little...Wilde...too.*_

 _*Get a fuckin' grip!*_ the inner voice raged. _*We've got more important things to worry about than who likes dick! Like, why we can't **remember** anything and what the fuck is going on! Snap out of it, soldier, and get with the program!*_

 _*Huh? Jesus, shut up!*_ Alex wondered if the others had little voices yelling at them in their heads. He decided that maybe it wouldn't be the best idea to mention it out loud, just in case. "You know, I think I was in the Army or something. I mean - when I woke up, I was thinking about if anybody was hurt and - I just knew what to do. I mean, I could imagine how to take care of somebody who was in shock or something."

"Maybe you're a doctor," Willow said, and he grinned.

"Nah. I've also got a card for a carpenters' union of some kind so - probably not. But I just kinda feel like...." He stopped talking, shaking his head. He couldn't put it into words; it was just a feeling, but a strong one.

"You know, I - kinda feel the same. I - remember? Some stuff...." Randy's voice trailed off, and Alex looked over at him. _Something_ \- was there. Some sort of - familiarity and he nodded slowly at the other man.

"Yeah. I think so too. Maybe we - met in the military? Something…. You just -"

"Yeah," Randy echoed, looking back at him, and they both smiled at the same moment.

 _*Wow - niiice smile. I wonder....*_ But that line of thought was interrupted by the blonde woman.

"I want to be called Joan!" she said, and Dawn made a face.

" _Joan?_ Yuck! That's so - so _boring!_ " 

Joan made a face right back. "Better than 'Umad'!" 

"Oh, shut up," Dawn snapped, just as Joan said:

"You're such a pain!" They stared at each other.

"Hey, maybe we're -"

"Sisters?" Dawn finished, and they both smiled and hugged each other.

"Hey, Alex, maybe these are yours," Desiderio said, softly accented voice that placed him from south of the border somewhere. He was indicating a toolbox and Alex went over to it - crouched down to look. He froze as the huge dog pulled away from Desiderio's grip and stalked over to him - pushed his nose into his shoulder and then his neck, sniffing.

"Sheesh, that's cold and wet - ah - hey! C'mon, dog, don't do that." Alex turned slowly and equally slowly put his hand out, letting the dog sniff it before he curled his fingers into the thick, russet fur. It was silky-soft and the dog felt good - felt solid and _right_ , and Alex shivered just a little.

_*Maybe I know this dog? Maybe me and this Desiderio guy...?*_

"That's not actually a dog. That's a wolf, although I've never seen one so large," Rupert said quietly, and Randy glanced at him and then moved closer, his eyes on the dog.

"How d'you know what it is?" he said softly, and crouched down next to Alex, hand outstretched. The - wolf - eyed him for a moment and then sniffed his outstretched fingers - nuzzled his face into Randy's palm. Randy grinned, delighted, and stroked the thick fur of the wolf's chest and neck.

"I - don't know, exactly, _how_ I know.... I just do. Perhaps I'm a - a weekend naturalist?" Rupert looked back at the papers and Alex smiled at Randy and the wolf. "He's really beautiful, isn't he," he said softly, and Randy grinned at him.

"Yeah, he is," he replied, and Alex reached out to touch the wolf again. When he did it was like - felt like - _*Like a circuit completing. Like...feels **right**. What the hell? **Not** me and Desiderio.*_ The feeling was so strong he gasped, and beside him Randy did the same.

"What the hell was _that?_ " he said under his breath, and Alex shook his head helplessly.

"I dunno, but I think - we'd better stay together. And - and Desiderio, too." Randy nodded - looked over at the other man who was watching them with sharp, black eyes.

"I think you're right," Desiderio said, just as quiet. They all jumped as Anya suddenly popped out of the office.

"I was right! There's an electric kettle back there and tea things, and this!" She held up a folder of some kind, brown with an elastic fastening. Across the front in bold letters was 'My Wedding Planner'. "I'm getting married! There are all kinds of charts and - and lists and - tons of stuff!" Anya looked pleased and she turned to eye Rupert.

"So, do you think it's us that's getting married? I mean - we're co-owners of the shop and everything. Makes sense."

"Hmmmm..." Rupert looked a little startled at the thought, but before he could say another word there was a sudden crash of breaking glass.

"What the -" Alex jumped up, heading for the front of the shop and Randy fell in step with him. Dawn and Joan hung back, wide-eyed. There was a spray of glass across the floor, and a chunk of what looked like cinderblock. It was just twilight outside - deep, blue-amber haze that made the edges of things fuzzy and indistinct. Someone was standing on the other side of the door - several someones.

"We want Spike!" a muffled voice yelled, and Alex and Randy looked at each other, puzzled.

"They want spikes?" Another piece of cinder-block crashed through the window and Alex jumped - glared at the door. "This is really pissing me off." He reached out and put his hand on the knob - caught Randy's eye. "You ready?"

"Ready," Randy said, grinning, and Alex wrenched open the door. Three figures whirled to face them and they stared for a long moment. Alex slammed the door shut - turned the security bolt. Randy lunged for the window and yanked down an anti-theft mesh, clicking it shut. Then they both stared at one another.

"What the - the _fuck_ was that?"

" _Vampires!_ " Randy said, and Alex gave him an odd look.

"What d'you mean, _vampires_?"

Randy stared at him, utterly blank, and then a thoughtful look came over his face. "I...did you see their faces?"

"Yeah. They looked...weird."

"They looked like _vampires_. They - bloody hell! They just _did!_ " Randy looked frustrated and jumped when Joan came up behind them.

"So what's going on outside?" She peered through the broken window, and suddenly a ridged, fanged face appeared in it, snarling.

"Send him out or we'll burn the place down!" Joan gave a yelp, jumping back, and Alex moved on pure instinct, the voice in his head screaming instructions. He punched straight and hard, dead center, and was rewarded with a sharp _snap_ and a howl as his fist broke the vampire's nose. The face disappeared backwards, streaming blood.

"Brilliant!" Randy crowed, slapping Alex on the shoulder and Alex winced, stumbling forward a step.

"Damn! You're strong, Randy." Alex rubbed his shoulder and Randy looked at his hand - smiled delightedly.

"Am I? Bloody brilliant."

"Those are vampires, huh?" Joan asked, inching up to peer through the mesh again. Alex tugged her away.

"Yeah, vampires. And they want - somebody. Spike?"

"Who the hell is Spike? We've all _got_ names. Unless the sods want the wolf/" All three turned to look at the wolf who lolled his tongue out at them, looking for all the world as if he thought they were utter idiots.

"Well, they can't have him. What would vampires want with a wolf, anyway?" Desiderio said, kneeling down and hugging the wolf. The animal leaned into him, letting out a low _hmmph_ sound.

"No, they can't have him," Alex said slowly. Because they _couldn't_. The wolf - was important.

"Listen - this is a magic shop - maybe we can find some kind of spell or something to get rid of them? And - what kills vampires?" Willow sounded excited, looking through the books on the table in the center of the shop and Tara, Dawn and Ethan started to go through them as well. Rupert put the papers down and opened a book that was beside him on the counter.

"Well, let's see.... According to traditional lore - if, of course, I remember correctly, vampires may be killed by...holy water, or - or crosses, or a wooden stake through the heart."

"Or beheading," Ethan said, nose in a book, and Rupert nodded distractedly.

"Yes, or beheading. So - do we have any stakes, I wonder?"

"Let's see what's back there," Joan said, pointing, and Alex and Randy followed her across the shop and through the door in the back.

"Wow! Look at this!" Joan darted across the room to a wall of axes, swords, daggers and staffs. Other, more mundane equipment - weights, a horse, a punching bag and a stack of mats - was scattered around.

"This is giving me a very...bad...feeling," Randy said, looking around. He stripped off his jacket and rolled his shirt-sleeves up, and Alex couldn't help noticing his pale, muscled forearms and agile fingers. He shivered, just a little.

 _*What the fuck? I wonder if we're...close? He just….*_ Alex shook his head. _*Focus, for God's sake!*_ the voice screamed, and Alex sighed. "Bad feeling why?" he asked. Joan had doubled up her fists and was punching half-heartedly at a heavy-bag, and Randy watched her for a moment.

"It just seems - there's _vampires_ out there. And we're in a bloody _magic shop_.... What if this isn't our world? Or - what if in this world, the vampires have taken over? What if we're the only humans left?" Joan stopped punching, staring at him, and Alex felt a quiver of fear go through him.

"No way. We can't be the only humans. Can we?" Randy looked at him, his eyes wide and a little spooked.

"No, we can't 'cause - what would the vampires eat if all the humans were dead? They need us to survive, so...." Joan put her fists on the heavy bag, head to one side. "So maybe it's a war. And we just got - trapped, or something, but there'll be a rescue soon or - something." She drew her fist back and _punched_ , and the bag swung violently, the chain creaking. Alex whistled.

"Wow - you're strong too. What if -" He was interrupted by a cracking sound and suddenly a back door splintered away from the jamb and swung inwards, crashing into the wall. Two figures leaped through: vampires, fangs gleaming and golden-glowing eyes wild.

"Got 'em now!" one crowed. He pounced towards Joan whose face went from utter shock to grim determination. The other leaped for Alex, grinning, and he ducked and rolled, bringing his fist up as the vampire flew over him, sinking it deep into his gut. The blow seemed to shock the creature, who rolled awkwardly to his knees. Out of the corner of his eye, Alex could see Joan punching and kicking, and the vampire reeling under her blows.

 _*Fuck - what -stake, holy water - gotta be a stake back here!*_ Alex pushed himself to his feet and then Randy was there, raining blows down on the other vamp and Alex darted away to the wall of weapons. He searched frantically and almost tripped over a duffle. He yanked the zipper down and saw stakes, and grabbed a handful.

"Joan! Catch!" he shouted, and lobbed one to her. She snatched it out of mid-air and he turned to Randy, who had the vamp pinned and was methodically pulverizing its face. "Randy!" Alex yelled, and tossed the second stake. As Randy started to turn Joan lunged and stabbed her vamp with the stake. It exploded into a cloud of dust and she reeled back, coughing.

"Did you _see_ that? That was _awesome!_ I think I'm some kind of superhero!" Joan was grinning, panting, and Alex grinned back - turned back in time to see Randy bring his own stake down on the vamp beneath him.

"Hold your breath!" Joan cried, and the dust swirled up. Randy let out a shout of triumph and bounced to his feet - turned to face them.

"I guess that won't be a problem," Alex muttered. Randy just grinned at him - golden eyes, fangs, a ridged and alien face.

"Oh my God!" Joan looked around frantically, as if for another stake, and Randy took a step towards her, his grin fading.

"What's the matter? Did you see how he just - disintegrated? That was bloody amazing!"

"Randy - you... Uh, you - your f-face."

"What about it, mate?" Randy's hand went up to his cheek - to his forehead - and froze. Wide-eyed, he felt carefully over his features, his fingertips just brushing the tips of his fangs. "But - what -" Randy looked utterly shattered and Alex walked slowly over to him. He wanted -

 _*He's - a vampire. But he's in here with us - he's our friend, he **has** to be...God, just wanna….*_ Alex reached out and hesitantly put his hand on Randy's shoulder and the vampire slumped a little, looking at him.

"I can't be a vamp, Alex. I'm - I'm in here with you - you blokes! I'm - a good guy, aren't I?"

"Y-yeah. You have to be. Maybe there are - are good vamps and - and bad vamps and - you help us! I mean - Joan is like - WonderWoman over there or something and you must help us kill the bad vamps. Maybe - maybe there's _lots_ of good vamps!" Alex couldn't stop staring and Randy looked away, shrugging his hand off.

"Don't have to stare. It's - ugly."

"No it's not!" Alex snapped. _*Where the fuck did **that** come from? But...it's not.*_

"It's just - different" Joan said softly, walking over to them and studying Randy's face. "It's like - a lion's face, kind of."

"Yeah?" Randy looked pleased - glanced over at Alex, smiling, and suddenly the vampire face was gone.

"Oh! It's - how'd you do that?"

"It's gone!" Alex stepped up close, his hand going to touch Randy's now-smooth forehead.

"Hey, guys?" They all started, turning around, and Desiderio was in the doorway, the toolbox in his hand. The wolf pushed past him and trotted over, rubbing up against Randy's leg, pushing him back a step. Randy laughed and dropped his hand down onto the tall, broad back.

"I think we'd better get that door nailed shut or something," Desiderio said, and he came across the room as well.

"Oh - yeah. Lucky they didn't all just run through!" Alex went to help the other man, looking around for something they could brace the door up with.

"So, you can put your vampire face on and off," Joan said, and Randy grinned at her.

 

Two hours later and the vampires outside had tried to rush them three times. They hadn't set fire to the building yet - they kept threatening it - and everyone was getting antsy. A call to the police had proved fruitless, since the vamps had apparently cut the phone line, and no one had a cell phone.

"Can't believe we're living in the bloody Century of the Fruitbat and not _one bloody person_ has a cell phone!" Randy groused, smoking his last cigarette and pacing back and forth in front of the counter. He'd torn the sleeves off his shirt but left his vest on and the flex of his muscles under milk-white skin was fascinating. At least - Alex and Desiderio couldn't stop watching, and Ethan seemed to be sneaking glances as well. Anya had tried a spell-book, but she'd only managed to conjure a spotted black and white rabbit. She'd screamed and passed out, and Rupert was currently trying to revive her with Essential Oil of Eucalyptus and scotch.

Ethan, Willow, Tara and Dawn were still poring over books, and Joan was in the back again, trying out different weapons. The occasional thump and _'awesome!'_ drifted out to them.

"Century of the Fruitbat? What the hell is that?" Alex asked, leaning over the wolf's back and rubbing it behind the ears. The wolf made that little _hmmph_ noise again and pressed against his hands.

"It's - it's...I don't have a soddin' clue! It just - popped into my head! Listen, we can't just _sit_ in here - we need to _do_ something. We need to -"

"What? Attack? We're not all superpowered like you and Joan, Randy! We'd get killed!" Dawn was the most afraid, of all of them, and Randy pinched his cigarette out and put the butt in his pocket - went over to her and crouched down next to her chair.

"Listen, Dawn, there's no way I'd make you fight these wankers. I'd keep you safe."

Dawn looked down at him and a small smile turned up the corners of her mouth. "You - you would?"

" _Course_ I would - we all would! You saw the pictures in all the wallets! You're - all of you are family. Something like. Me an' Ethan, we're the odd men out." Dawn looked thoughtful at that. She'd even had pictures in a small backpack that had included Desiderio and a shorter, blue-haired man, an obvious couple. Randy was right - it seemed that he and Ethan were the only ones not pictured anywhere.

_*Doesn't matter. Randy **belongs**. He's one of us. Maybe - you can't take pictures of vampires. They don't show up in mirrors, so - probably not.*_

"You don't feel - odd," Dawn said, and Randy ducked his head - smiled up at her and then stood up, patting her shoulder gently.

"Thanks, pet. But don't be scared - it'll be okay." Randy went back to his pacing, his brow furrowed in thought, and Alex found himself staring upwards at the loft that held more books and a couple of straight-backed chairs.

"You know…." he said slowly, listening with concentration to the voice in his head, "I've got an idea…."

 

They were crouched in the loft, waiting tensely. Alex's palm was sweaty on the stock of the crossbow he held and he wiped it hastily on his jeans. Beside him, Randy's vampire face was evident as he scanned the shop below. They'd put out almost all the lights, and there were people hidden with crossbows and stakes all over. Tara had a found a spell, one that would cause an intense flash of light. They were going to lure the attacking vampires into the store and at Joan's signal Rupert would use the spell. They hoped it would momentarily blind their opponents since Randy had said he had no trouble seeing in the darkened training room, or out into the nighttime street. There were about ten vampires and one strange sort of fish-headed demon still outside, and Joan waited by the door, ready to open it and lure them in.

"Ready?" Randy called softly, and there were murmured acknowledgements from around the shop. "Go, Joan!" he called, and Joan opened the door and strode outside. A moment or two later she pelted back in and the vampires streamed in behind her, snarling. Joan dove for cover under the table and a volley of cross-bow bolts leapt across the room. Two vamps were dusted and two more went down, one shot through the eye and one in the knee.

Alex swore, his hands shaking as he hastily reloaded. Next to him Randy did the same, and Desiderio on the other side. Another volley went off, dusting one more vamp and wounding another and then they were in the shop and it was too dangerous, now, to use crossbows anymore.

"Rupert, now!" Joan yelled, and Alex shut his eyes tight. A brief murmur and a flare of white behind his eyes and there were screams from the vamps. He looked again just as Randy leapt off the balcony, ignoring the stairs altogether. He landed on two vamps, fists in the back of their necks. As they collapsed Willow and Tara darted out, slamming stakes down hard and both vamps dusted.

"Whoo hoo!" Tara yelled, pumping her fist, and Willow looked wide-eyed at her and then grinned back.

"Only five left, Joan! Let's bloody do it!" Randy shouted, leaping on another vamp. Joan came out from under the table, fists and feet already in motion and Alex darted down the loft steps, Desiderio's feet ringing on the wrought iron behind him. Ethan, Dawn and Anya were in the office and Rupert stood guard over the door, axe in hand. From out of nowhere the wolf came running and he landed on the fish-headed demon, toppling it to the floor, snarling and snapping in its face. The demon snapped back, showing a mouthful of impressive teeth.

Alex swung his own axe, slicing into the thigh of the vamp with the crossbow bolt in his knee and Desiderio was right there, swinging a short sword, hacking inexpertly but hard. The vamp snarled and lunged at them and all three went down. As they struggled the vamp suddenly disintegrated and Willow stood over them, coughing.

"Thanks!" Alex cried, and then Joan and another vamp bowled into her, knocking her flying. "Shit, Willow!" Alex scrambled to his feet, rushing to help the redhead. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Desiderio hamstring the vamp Joan was fighting and the vamp _poofed_ into nothing, Joan's stake finishing him off. Randy was twisting the head off another vamp, and one was trying to get the wolf off of the fish-demon.

 _*More like a shark,*_ Alex thought, reaching out to Willow. She grabbed his hand and pulled a little more enthusiastically then he was ready for and he stumbled forward, his foot coming down heavily on something that broke with a small _crack_.

 

 _*Whoa - dizzy. Fuck! What in hell -*_ Xander stared down at his foot - up at Willow, who was on her knees, hand to her head. He heard a small cry and glanced up to see Buffy jerk a vamp off Tara and dust it. Then nothing but the low growl of wolf-Oz, who was crouched on the chest of a shark-headed demon over by the door.

"What -" Tara said, and then she looked at Willow and her face crumpled into tears. Giles was putting his axe on the counter, opening the office door and Dawn and the others came out, looking bewildered. Ethan came out last and he was pale.

"Ripper, love - I can feel it. We're leaving right _now_ ," Ethan said, and Xander stared at Ethan for a moment, confused.

_*Feel what?*_

_* **Him** , love. Christ -*_ Spike was backing away from Giles, getting Tara to her feet and bringing her with him. Xander looked at Giles and - _*darkman demonkiller **darkman** *_ was like a solid wave of deafening, ice cold energy that crashed over them all. It was like drowning in half-solidified ice and Xander took in a hard breath and grabbed Derio, pulling him back, getting them both close to Spike. The hyena howled, mindless fear. Xander didn't think he'd ever seen quite that expression on Giles' face, although it was obvious from Ethan's slightly panicky look that he _had_.

"Ripper - _now_. Right now, or you'll be bloody fucking sorry," Ethan hissed. Giles was staring at Willow, his mouth working silently, and suddenly he turned and looked straight at Ethan - managed one sharp nod at the rest of them and strode out of the shop. As he passed the shark-headed demon it cringed away from him and Oz growled. Ethan followed behind, his eyes blazing, that seething coil of dark smoke that was _himself_ almost as strong as Giles' barely banked fury. The door slammed and they all waited for a moment.

_*Fuck, fuck, **fuck**. What did she - what in **hell** was she -*_

_*Memory - memory spell, God -*_ from Oz. Nothing coherent from Spike, the demon's rage incandescent and savage. Xander was startled when the vampire spoke and his voice was utterly flat.

"Slayer - best get the Niblet home. Glinda's coming with us. We'll come get her things tomorrow."

"Spike -" Buffy said, her arm around Dawn's shoulders, frowning.

" _Do_ it, Slayer!"

"It's all right, Buffy. We'll - we'll call you." Xander moved so that Tara was between he and Spike, and Buffy looked at him - looked at Willow with a mixture of confusion and anger on her face. She sighed finally, and nodded.

"Okay. What about - that," with a gesture towards the shark-demon.

"I'll take care of it," Spike said, and Buffy nodded again and she and Dawn left. Willow watched them go, tears streaming down her face. Anya came out from behind the counter, her purse under her arm, her face furious and set.

"We're going to be closed tomorrow. You guys - get going. I'm locking up." She disappeared into the back and Desiderio shakily walked over to Oz, who was still standing on the demon.

 _*Let him up, Oz,*_ Xander thought, and the wolf snapped at the demon one more time then hopped off - met Desiderio half way and leaned into him.

 _*Fucking naked again,*_ Oz thought, and Xander almost laughed - hugged Tara instead who was crying silently into his shoulder.

Spike growled. "Get the fuck out of here, Shark. You ever do anything so stupid again and -"

"Yes, yes, right, of course, Mr. Spike, of course," the demon mumbled, climbing awkwardly to its feet. It hurried out the door and was gone, and Derio looked around - walked over to the counter where Oz's shredded jeans were lying and picked them up. Keys jangled faintly in the pocket.

"There isn't anything.... I'm gonna drive Oz home. I'll - see you guys there."

"Yeah, right behind you, Derio," Xander said, and the two of them were gone as well.

_*Xander - get Spike home, get **Tara** home. Don't let him - don't let him hurt her.*_

_*I won't. Love you.*_

_*Love you. Pack, Xander. Can't lose any of them.*_

"Tara? Tara, I'm - I'm s-sso sorry, I'm so, so _sorry_ -" Willow choked out, crying harder now, and Tara shivered in Xander's arms, silent. Xander felt the hyena surge - felt the snarl distort his face. He fought it - fought back the incoherent rage and the desire to _rend_ \- to end this threat to his family, _*protect pack protect pack protect protect protect*_ dinning in his mind - echoing from Oz still, _shouted_ from the demon.

" _Willow_.... Don't - come around for a few days," he finally managed, his voice harsh, and he turned abruptly and started out, Tara held close in his arms. Behind him he heard a muffled wail.

"Xander! I didn't mean - I wasn't trying to -"

"He could have _died_ , witch! They _all_ could have, forgetting what's out there - what we _are_." Spike's voice was as cold and dreadful as a snake's hiss, shaking with a desire to kill so tenuously leashed that Xander spun around, dreading what he might see. Spike stood over Willow, the demon there, his body quivering with tension. He crouched down suddenly, his hands on either side of Willow's thighs, his face inches from hers. He took a deep breath, scenting her, his mouth slightly open and Willow was leaning frantically back.

"Did you see the wolfling, red witch? He forgot his humanity - or he forgot how to find it. What do you think would have happened if Xander had forgotten like that? If _I_ had? Want me to tell you?"

"S-spike, get away from -"

"I'll _tell_ you, witchling." Spike's nails dug into the floor, splintering it, and Xander smelled blood suddenly - felt the stab of splinters through the link but Spike didn't seem to notice. Anya emerged from the back room and froze, staring. Beside him, Tara had lifted her head but she was still silent.

"If _I_ had forgotten, _Willow_ \- oh, if _I_ had forgotten...." Spike's voice had dropped to a crooning whisper - to a rumbling _purr_ of a voice and Xander shuddered violently all over, the hyena _wanting._

_*Oh God, want it want it, blood and bones, blood and **bones** \- Spike! Get away get away -*_

"I'd have had every drop of blood in the Watcher's body, Red; I'd have taken that misbegotten mage and eaten his _heart_ , pretty. A quick death for demon-girl, because she still reeks of D'Hoffryn and even William the Bloody doesn't cross _him_." Spike licked his lips, head down, golden eyes fixed on Willow.

"But I'd have _had_ my hat trick, witch, I'd have had my third Slayer because she's _no_ match for the demon when she can't remember her _hate_ , witch. And _Dawn_ , and _Tara_ , and _Derio_.... They're _pack_ , witch." Spike shredded a line of splinters out of the floor - lifted a bleeding hand and touched Willow's forehead with it and she flinched, trying to scrabble away. The same hand darted out and grabbed the front of her shirt - yanked her back.

"And pack means I'd have _turned them_ , witch. Because that's all the demon knows - that's all the demon _wants_ and it's only the soul and my _boy_ that keeps it from the things it wants, witch." Spike lifted his head and growled - let it rumble up and out, louder and louder to a roar that made Willow cry out and that the hyena answered, full-throated shriek. Tara jerked against Xander's ribs and he shushed her absently, everything in him tuned to the demon.

"And _you_ \- Red...I'd have sucked the magic from your body and the marrow from your bones and had that pretty hair for my lair, sweetheart, and _that_ is why you don't do magic on me and mine _ever again_ , Willow - _ever fucking again_." Spike rose in one fluid motion - whirled and stalked out and Xander couldn't bring a single word past the growl that was lodged in his throat. Every word Spike had said was true - Xander had felt it - had _known_ it like his own mind, and the images of what might have happened would wake him, sweating and shaking, for weeks.

When they got home, Derio and Tara both nodded silent, weary understanding and they gathered Oz and went back out into the night. Hunting - had never felt so much like absolution and Xander wondered if he would ever, ever love Willow again.

 

 

_________________________  
Stephan Sondheim - _Jet Song, West Side Story_


	10. Lessons

_"It was the forty-fathom slumber that clears the soul and eye and heart, and sends you to breakfast ravening. They emptied a big tin dish of juicy fragments of fish - the blood ends the cook had collected overnight. They cleaned up the plates and pans of the elder mess, who were out fishing, sliced pork for the midday meal, swabbed down the foc'sle, filled the lamps, drew coal and water for the cook, and investigated the fore hold, where the boat's stores were stacked. It was another perfect day - soft, mild, and clear; and Harvey breathed to the very bottom of his lungs."_

Tara was talking softly on the phone, and Xander and Oz were at the kitchen counter, slicing up onions and peppers and spinach. Derio was trying out a lasagna recipe and he'd dragooned them into chopping duty. Spike had got out of it by volunteering to help Dawn with her homework. She had some sort of cold and had gotten a sick day - and proposed to spend it watching TV since her head 'hurt too much' to read. Spike had sorted through her backpack, found her book report homework and the book, and was now cozily on the couch with tea and his 'private' reserve of Jaffa Cakes, making Dawn take notes as he read aloud.

_*I should take a picture. The evil undead reading to a little girl and sharing cake.*_

_*Bugger off. Just helping the Bit.*_ Spike shot them both a look. Xander grinned over at Oz, who grinned back.

_*And he's wearing YOUR purple flannel shirt and it's about three sizes too big so he's all - floppy and cuddly looking.*_

_*Just 'cause it smells good -*_

_*And he didn't fix his hair! It's all curly and loose and fluffy - he looks about fifteen!*_

_*And your lumberjack socks!*_

_*Awwww!*_

_*Awwww!*_

"You two had bloody well better stop that _right now!_ " Spike yelled. He glared at them over the long kitchen counter that separated the two rooms and scrunched down further into the couch, tucking his feet under the throw Dawn had over her legs. She jerked, her head bobbing up and her eyes going wide.

"Right, stop that! Who said that now?"

"Bit, were you _sleeping?_ " Spike looked shocked and Xander couldn't help the snorting laughter that had him doubled over the counter. Oz was holding half an onion and a knife out in front of him, his eyes pouring with tears, giggling uncontrollably. Derio wiped Oz's face with a paper towel.

"Are you guys making fun of Spike?" he whispered in Oz's ear, and Oz turned his head just enough to get a kiss.

"Course not," Oz whispered back, grinning. Xander straightened and resumed chopping, and Spike glared at Dawn - at Xander and Oz - at the book. Then he took a deep breath and went back to reading.

 

_"When dad kerflummoxes that way," said Dan in a whisper, "he's doin' some high-line thinkin' fer all hands. I'll lay my wage an' share we'll make berth soon. Dad he knows the cod, an' the fleet they know dad knows. See 'em comin' up one by one, lookin' fer nothin' in particular, o' course, but scrowgin' on us all the time?"_

"I have to go, Willow. I - I'm glad you fixed Amy, but.... We'll talk l-later. Bye." Tara turned off the phone - got up slowly and went to hang it up. She looked upset and Xander watched her as she washed her hands and found a knife - started chopping spinach.

"All right, Tara?" Xander asked, and she gave him a haunted look from behind her hair.

"Willow fixed Amy-the-rat. She's a p-person now. And I'm glad Amy's - back to being human but…."

"But Willow promised," Xander said sadly, and Tara nodded. Two weeks since the memory spell and Willow had promised no more magic.

"She didn't even....t-try, I don't think. She said she had this idea and -" Tara chopped in silence for a moment and then stopped, her shoulders slumping.

"What am I gonna do, Xander?" she said softly, and Xander was pretty sure she was crying.

_"So Disko Troop thought of recent weather, and gales, currents, food supplies, and other domestic arrangements, from the point of view of a twenty-pound cod; was in fact, for an hour, a cod himself, and looked remarkably like one. Then he removed the pipe from his teeth."_

"Tara -" Xander stopped chopping peppers and wiped his hands on a paper towel - put his arm around Tara's shoulders. She sniffed and rubbed her arm across her face - started chopping again in a determined, jerky fashion. "I think - she's just so confused right now.... Giles is working on getting her into that coven in England - getting her some help...this...addiction...they'll know how to fix it."

 _*Can't be addicted to magic, love - it's not like that.*_ Spike's gaze caught his above the edge of the book and Xander slowly nodded. _Willow_ said it was an addiction - that she _craved_ it. Giles - disagreed.

_*How do you know? I mean, couldn't she -*_

_*Don't know for sure....*_ Spike stopped reading - reached out to get his cup and take a long drink of tea. Dawn blinked at him and held up her pencil, proving she was awake. _*Something Dru told me once…. If you can do magic, it's part of you - you can't...it's not something you can have and not have, like a cigarette - it's always there. It's - what you do with it, how you use it....*_ Spike trailed off uncertainly and the link was filled for a moment with pictures of Dru - unconnected, random, murky. _*I don't...remember.*_

Xander frowned at that and slowly went back to chopping. The little stumbles of memory were getting worse. _*Be all right,*_ softly from Oz, and Xander nodded, trying not to slice his fingers off. "It'll be okay, Tara," Xander said finally, and the blonde woman glanced at him, smiling softly. "We'll figure this out."

"Sorry. I don't mean to be all - m-moody."

"You're entitled," Derio said, coming to scoop her spinach into a pot and Tara smiled at him, too. It was fun, having her there, despite the reason _why_. She had classes at odd hours and odd days, so you never knew when she'd show up. She talked about the professors and the other students with a dry, unexpected wit that made them all laugh. She had discovered a shared interest in cooking with Oz and Derio - and a shared interest in more basic, passive magics with Dawn. Spike - she treated like a trusted older brother and they'd had one or two late nights, drinking tea and talking. It made Xander feel even safer - even more content - then before.

_*Family is getting bigger. I love it.*_

_*Enough for an actual pack,*_ softly from Oz, and Xander had to smile at that. At the thought of them all living _*nesting* *denning*_ in their house - as a family that didn't go away or break your heart.

Tara had moved some pots of herbs onto the back porch and Dawn had graciously allowed her to take over her room a bit, and movie nights and dinner times were more crowded, now. Derio was coming around more often too. He felt too restless at home, he said, with aunts and cousins in and out all day long. He wanted to be with Oz and if nobody minded, he'd do just that. Nobody did.

_"Now you look somethin' like," said Dan. "Hurry!"_  
"Keep nigh an' handy," said Troop, "an' don't go visitin' raound the fleet. Ef any one asks you what I'm cal'latin to do, speak the truth an' say ye don't know."  
A little red dory, labelled "Hattie S.," lay astern of the schooner. Dan hauled in the painter, and dropped lightly on to the bottom boards, while Harvey tumbled clumsily after." 

_*Get Tara settled - get Red bundled off...we can make our own plans to go,*_ Spike thought, and Xander heard the wistful note that was in that suggestion. Spike still wanted to _go_ , to leave the Hellmouth. Xander did, too - but he felt like he couldn't, with everything so up in the air. They'd agreed to make plans, but nothing fixed just yet.

_*Just a little more time, love. We'll do it, I promise. Love you.*_

_*Love you. Want you safe,*_ Spike added, and Xander couldn't argue with that.

 

"And the wackiness just keeps happening," Buffy said grumpily, tossing a paper down onto the table at the Magic Box. The headline said something about a diamond and a 'freeze ray' and while Oz read through it Buffy shed her jacket and hat and stomped over to the counter. She joined Anya in flipping through _Bride_ magazines.

"It's those guys - that Warren guy....the little evil threesome. I mean, who else would come up with something lame like a _freeze ray_."

Buffy continued to mutter under her breath and Xander had to admit that the Threesome _*or whatever - God, **not** an image I want to contemplate*_ were pretty annoying. They apparently were spending a lot of time calling up various demons and getting them to steal things or fight other demons, and the whole non-human community was getting pretty tired of it. They'd actually approached Buffy - at Willy's, neutral ground - and through _Spike_ , who didn't know whether to be annoyed or flattered. Asked her to _get_ them. Buffy had promised to try, and had gratefully listened to every last scrap of information the different demons had. But the geek trio was amazingly sneaky, and so far they didn't have anything.

"So, did they kill the security guard? I mean - frozen, that's kinda extreme," Xander said, looking at the newspaper over Oz's shoulder.

"No - he seems to be okay. Which is too bad 'cause that'd give me an excuse to go all - Terminator on their asses." Buffy pushed the magazine away with a sigh and started an aimless walk around the Magic Box, poking at things and making Anya stare at her, narrow-eyed, as she moved the merchandise around infinitesimally. "Where's Spike?" 

"Hunting," Xander answered automatically, and then looked up guiltily at the hiss of indrawn breath. "He's not killing anyone, Buffy. Swear."

"Better not be," Buffy grumbled, but she sighed again, and Oz looked at her, head a little to one side.

"You okay, Buffy?" The slayer poked distractedly at a cluster of chicken feet and then flopped down into a chair.

"Yeah. Kinda. I'm just.... There's this woman from Social Services coming over."

"There is?"

"What? Why?" Oz and Xander both spoke at the same time and Oz pulled his feet up onto the chair seat, frowning over his knees. Xander sat down in one of the other chairs, frowning as well. Dawn _had_ been acting out a bit - skipping some classes, getting 'fresh' with the teachers - not doing her homework. Why was anybody's guess, although Spike was happy to blame it on Janice and brought up the Halloween debacle fairly often as proof. Dawn just rolled her eyes and snapped back about pots and kettles and then Spike would yell and Dawn would shriek. It was like Jerry Springer only no nudity, thank God, or chairs being thrown.

"So - when is she coming by? And why?" Xander asked, and Buffy leaned her elbows up on the table.

"It's 'cause Dawn's been goofing off in school. And _apparently_ she told the school counselor some stuff. And - I dunno. I missed a meeting, but there were these vamps...." Buffy shook her head. "I've _got_ a good job, thanks to you, and Dawn has a house and - and tons of people who love her! I don't understand what more they want!" Buffy looked frustrated and close to tears and Xander reached out and touched her hand.

"What is it, Buffy? I mean - Child Welfare around here is a joke. I should know. What's the problem?"

"Oh - just... This woman at the office. She said - if Dawn doesn't start...behaving...they might take her away. Send her to live with Dad." Buffy's lip trembled and she jerked in startlement as Oz growled, wolfing for a moment.

"Over my fucking dead body," Xander snapped, and he wanted to growl too. "What the hell - is your dad tired of paying child support or something? Why would anybody think _he's_ the right person to take care of Dawn? He didn't even come to - to the funeral!" Buffy winced at that and Xander bit his lip, instantly sorry. When Hank Summers hadn't shown up to see Joyce laid to rest, the three of them had privately vowed to _never_ let the man have any say in Buffy's life again. _Or_ Dawn's.

"Geez, guys. It's...he _is_ her dad," Buffy said slowly, looking a little bewildered, and Oz took a deep breath, hugging his legs tightly.

"It's just - Dawn's part of the pa- part of the family, Buffy," Oz said softly, and Xander nodded.

"Family. You mean _pack_. You almost _said_ pack. She's part of...this...whatever." Buffy made vague motions towards Xander and Oz, frowning a little.

_*Well, won't lie to her about it.*_

_*Can't hurt, as Spike says. Want me to tell her?*_

Oz looked considering - nodded, finally. _*Still closer friends than me, so yeah.*_

"Okay.... Remember up on the tower, Buffy? When you - when you gave some of Dawn's blood to Spike?"

"Yeeah..." Buffy said slowly. "I just - I hoped he'd just.... I thought it was kinda ritual-y. That he'd...kind of adopt her or something. I just wanted her to be safe," Buffy whispered the last, and Xander smiled at her.

"It's okay. It worked. It's just - there's all this magic, in blood.... And it worked really well. You know how I can hear Spike and Oz - and they can hear me? How we all know what the other is thinking and feeling?" Buffy nodded, wide-eyed and Xander smiled at her, trying to be reassuring.

"Well, the thing is...after that we could hear _Dawn_. It was good!" Xander said hastily, as Buffy scowled, opening her mouth to say - something. "Wait, okay? It was good. She had a lot of...nightmares, at first, and - she stayed with us and we knew what she needed, you know? We could help her. It faded after a week or so. Now we can only hear her when she's in the same room, and it's just - basic stuff. Strong emotions. Helps us know when she's lying." Xander grinned and Buffy stared at him a minute, and then she grinned back.

"So _that's_ how Spike - ! Oh, wow, that's...kinda creepy. But good! You're right. It's good. Does she know?"

"We never told her. Didn't seem like a good idea." 

Buffy nodded - thought for a second and then a _look_ came over her face. "She can't hear _you_ guys, can she?"

" _No_. Not at all. She didn't - she never got any of Spike's blood, so - it's only one way."

"Thank God. I mean, you guys - not exactly discreet.... Anya told me about The Roof." Buffy giggled, and Xander put his head down on the table. " _No_ teenager needs _that_ in their head."

"I'm never going up there again," Xander mumbled, ignoring Oz's snickering.

"So, anyway," Buffy said, heaving a huge sigh, "this woman is going to come by and - _inspect_ \- and they don't say when or anything and I might not even be home or - or what if I'm all covered in demon goo or something? What if I forgot to do the dishes?"

Xander lifted his head and pushed his fingers back through his hair. "They don't take kids away 'cause there's some dishes in the sink," Oz said calmly, and Buffy shook her head.

"But what if there's a _lot?_ And - and Willow is there -what if they think I'm in a gay relationship? The government hates that! And -"

" _Buffy_ -" Oz said, and he leaned forward, putting his hand on top of hers. "It's going to be okay. You've got a _good_ job - insurance, even! You've got friends who are willing to help any time. And you _know_ the government will love Giles. And - even if they don't like something, they won't just snatch Dawn."

"Yeah, he's right," Xander said, and Buffy looked from Oz to him, her expression eloquently pleading for comfort.

"I mean - they came to _my_ house a couple of times, but I never got - taken. They just...don't care that much." Xander couldn't keep the bitterness out of his voice and Buffy winced slightly.

"Oh, Xander, I’m sorry. I'm being such a - drama queen. I know you guys'll do anything...Dawn really loves you, you know?" She looked at him - looked at Oz, her face softening into a relaxed, slightly bewildered smile. "Even Spike - or maybe, _especially_ Spike. She just.... She loves you guys and loves being part of your...family. I never really…." Buffy stopped, and wiped distractedly at her eyes, blinking. "I never really said thanks for - everything you guys did while I was dead. It was wonderful and - I can't ever repay you."

"Buff - come on. _Repay?_ There's - we'd have done it no matter what."

"'Cause of the blood," Buffy said quietly, and Oz shook his head.

"No. I mean, yeah, that made it stronger but - she was f - she was pack long before that." Oz said it calmly but Xander could feel his anxiety in the link and there was an echo from Spike, who'd been eavesdropping the whole time - who was just down the street, now.

 _*She won't care. She - understands.*_ Xander was sure of it, and the anxious feeling lessened a bit.

"She was? My bratty little screechy little sister?" Buffy said it with a smile but there was something - else - there.

"You're part of our family too, Buffy," Xander said. "Not quite the same, but - you know we'd do anything for you."

"I know," Buffy said quietly.

"Enough of this." It was Spike, coming in the back door, cigarette pluming smoke and blood down the side of his duster and Anya put up a hand, having been engrossed in her _Bride_ magazine the whole time.

"Don't get blood on anything, Spike," she said, and Spike grinned at her.

"Too much wallowing. Everything'll be fine, Slayer, you'll see. Won't let anybody take the Bit." He swirled the duster off and draped it over the stairs - came over to Xander's chair, _*scoot up*_ in the link. He swung his leg over the back of the chair and dropped down behind Xander, putting an arm around his waist and snuggling his face into Xander's hair for a moment. Xander leaned back into him, smiling.

"I can't believe I'm saying this but...I believe you, Spike. Must be the apocalypse when a Slayer trusts a vampire more than...just about anybody else."

"Nah, no apocalypse," Spike said, his voice a little muffled. Xander shivered pleasantly at the lips and tongue-tip that were just brushing the nape of his neck. "Just you finally using your brains, 'stead of your fists." He grinned over at her and reached out with his other hand, to rub once gently down Oz's arm, _*love safe family*_ in the link.

Buffy rolled her eyes. "Like you'd know anything about _that_. Fine. I'm going to just - just try not to wig about it. Tomorrow - I'm going to get my hair cut." She lifted her hair up over her head, letting it fall through her fingers and Anya perked up, coming out from behind the counter and looking interested for the first time all night.

"You are? Really? Do you have a style picked out? Maybe you should look through some magazines and see what you'd like. I know the stylist downtown, he's just _so_ good -"

 _*God - let me up! Don't want to be dragged into a hairstyle discussion!*_ Xander struggled a little against Spike's hold - mostly he just rocked back, grinding his ass into Spike a little, twisting, and Spike's teeth bit down on his neck, making him shiver.

 _*Fuck yeah. We're done here, anyway.*_ Oz was already standing up and grabbing his jacket, feeling for his keys. Derio had had a rehearsal tonight - well, more of a 'band talk'. A couple of the band members were starting to want to move on - do other things, and they had to figure out the band's future. He was coming by later.

 _*You hurt, Spike? What was all that blood?*_ Oz added, sniffing pointedly towards the vampire and Spike grinned, standing up and pulling Xander with him.

 _*Not hurt. Just found a fledge who had a little fight in him - took my time.*_ The cascade of images made Xander shiver, just a little. And not because they were gruesome, but because of the rush of gleeful pleasure and arousal that they had sparked in Spike, and that he was pouring through the link. Spike grabbed his duster and carefully folded the blood to the inside - hung it over his arm.

"'Night, Buffy! 'Night, Anya!" Xander called, and got a double hand-flip from the two. They went out the back to where Oz had his van parked.

"So - anybody up for a little more patrol?" Spike asked, snaking one arm around Oz's waist and the other around Xander, pulling them both close. The link was alive with energy, arousal, bloodlust, and Xander felt the hyena stirring - let it surface and voiced a low, chuckling sort of growl.

"Count me in," he said, and Oz yipped, black-eyed and grinning. 

"That's my boys," Spike murmured, gold-gleaming eyes sparking in the dimness. He put his duster in the back of the van and then they were running, the link thick with excitement, into another Hellmouth night.

 

"Bloody...sodding...buggering… _fucking_ phone, where the hell _is_ it…?" Spike scrabbled through the detritus that littered the bedside table - a newspaper, a couple of empty soda cans, lube, the handcuffs, the clock-radio whose radio still worked but whose alarm he had broken, the clock-radio whose _alarm_ still worked but whose radio _Xander_ had broken, a _shirt_ , for fuck's sake, but no phone. He hung half off the bed, eyes closed, listening.

 _*Under the bed? How in hell -*_ He reached as far as he could and snagged it - hauled himself back up and flopped down on his back, fumbling blindly for the button. He wouldn't normally touch the phone but this many rings meant someone was calling twice in a row, neatly circumnavigating the voicemail. So it could be an emergency.

 _*And if it's not I'm gonna kick somebody's arse.*_ "Fucking what?" he growled, and heard a sharp intake of breath on the line. Then:

"S-spike?"

 _*Oh **bloody hell**! Red.*_ "What the fuck do you want, witch," he snapped, his hand tightening down dangerously hard on the handset. The plastic creaked and he forced himself to relax a little.

"I - is.... No, okay. Listen, Spike. Those guys - Warren and his friends, they've been screwing around again and they made some sort of - ray. And now Buffy's invisible and I'm trying to figure out how to undo it before something awful happens."

"Yeah, so? I don't give a fuck 'bout that." Another intake of breath, sharp and startled and Spike grinned to himself. _*You'll figure it out eventually, Red - I'm not your friend.*_

"You - you just...." Another few breaths and a nervous cough. "I'm calling to tell you that Dawn is going to come over after school. Buffy doesn’t want her around in case - in case we have to go find these guys or something. So just - just be ready for her."

"Yeah, no problem," Spike said and punched the off button. _*Bloody Threesome. Christ.*_ Spike pushed the phone under his pillow - grabbed Xander's pillow and curled himself around it. The working clock said one-seventeen, so he let his eyes drift shut, snuggling down. _*Bit's got a key, and it's daylight. She'll be safe comin' up the walk and I'll know she's here.*_ He was asleep again in moments.

 

Waking up the second time was just as annoying, only this time it was Dawn pounding up the stairs, singing along with her Discman to some awful pop tune. Her _voice_ was fine, but the lyrics were dreadful pap. _*God. And I thought **my** poetry was awful. How in hell do they even get record deals?*_ Spike rolled onto his back, groaning, and Dawn stopped outside the door.

"Spike! Are you up? Are you dressed?"

"I'm up now, Bit! But you know I'm not dressed - in bed, aren't I?" He grinned, waiting.

"TMI, Spike! I'm gonna get something to eat. Want something to eat?"

"Sure, Niblet. Be down in a minute." She stomped off, singing again, and Spike winced - got up and stretched hard. He took a fast shower, more to wake up than to get clean, and rubbed his hair with a towel but left the gel out. Xander liked it this way, soft and a little curly, and he'd be home soon.... Spike felt for him in the link and got a distracted internal pet, Xander's focus being mostly on a blueprint or an invoice - something work related and complicated. Oz was, apparently, playing his guitar at the shop, singing softly with Giles. Spike got the impression that they were taking a break, and a brief impression of Ethan practicing his meditation on the exercise mats came through. Satisfied that his family was fine, Spike pulled on some jeans and then looked around for a shirt. The two he picked up were stained, one with blood and one with -

 _*Lube. And come. Jesus. Why is it **my** shirts are always the ones used for clean-up?*_ Grimacing, he tossed the shirt aside. There were some clean ones down in the laundry room he was pretty sure, so he padded out of the room and downstairs, wondering why Dawn had stopped singing. When he got to the bottom of the steps he saw why. Sitting bolt-upright and uncomfortable on the couch was Dawn, and across from her in the newer recliner was…. _*Well fuck,*_ Spike thought, staring at the folder the woman held in her hands - the one stamped Child Welfare Services. _*This won't be pretty.*_ He fought the desire to simply vamp out and pounce on the woman - drain her and toss her in the river. _*Government employees get killed all the time. Everybody wants 'em dead - who'd care?*_ But Dawn looked anxious - looked a little ill, in fact, and the anxiety rolling off her was intense. He sighed internally - ran a hand back through his hair.

"Uh. Hello. Haven't had a chance to bring the clean clothes upstairs yet," he said, smiling something as close to his real smile as he could. The woman was eyeing him with what looked like disapproval and he swung around the newel post and walked swiftly back to the laundry room and snatched the first t-shirt he saw. It was white - one of Xander's - and a little baggy but that was probably better than skin-tight black. He looked down at his bare feet and then shrugged. Nothing to be done - his boots were in the utility sink, covered in muck. Dawn's anxiety nattered at him and he walked back to the living room, wishing he could get a quick drink.

"He - he's here when I come home from school - he h-helps me do my homework and - and we make dinner together -" Dawn was talking too fast, her face stiff and uncertain and Spike put his hand gently on her shoulder, squeezing just a little. Then, with an internal shudder, he dredged up William.

"I'm William Sinclair, Miss -?"

"Oh! Mrs. I'm Mrs. Kroger," the woman smiled uncertainly and Spike smiled back - moved forward to take her hand. He squeezed gently, leaning forward the tiniest bit in an imitation of a bow.

" _Mrs_. Kroger. I never would have guessed. Such a pleasure to meet you. Can I get you anything? Coffee?"

"I - uh - no. No, Mr. Sinclair -"

"Call me Will, Mrs. Kroger, please," Spike said, and sat down on the couch next to Dawn. Dawn was goggling at him and _*laughter shock laughter*_ was in the link.

"Will. Yes." Mrs. Kroger seemed flustered and she looked down blankly at the folder in her hands for a moment. "Now then. Dawn was just telling me that you live here? And who _are_ you, exactly? As pertains to Dawn?"

"Well, I _feel_ like a big brother," Spike said, patting Dawn on the knee, smiling hard. Dawn looked down at his hand and then made a muffled noise, burying her face in her hands. "Bless you, Dawn. Hay fever, you know," Spike continued smoothly, feeling Dawn tremble with fiercely repressed laughter. "I'm just an old friend of the family, really. We met through Mr. Rupert Giles? He was the librarian at Sunnydale High school and became close to Dawn's mother and older sister. Both of us being British, we banded together somewhat." Spike smiled again and Dawn snuffled into her hands.

"Go and get a tissue, Dawn," Spike said, and Dawn shot him a look, scrambling up off the couch and heading towards the bathroom, _*laughter*_ still in the link.

"Yes, I see that Mr. Giles is listed as one of our contacts in case of emergency. You are, also, as well as a - Alexander Harris? Is he here?"

"No, he's working. Alves and Son? He's a foreman there." _*Just answer her questions, don't volunteer anything.*_ He could feel Oz in the link, _*question*_ , and he answered him fast. There was a moments pause, then _*question*_ again, and Spike knew what he was asking.

 _*Nah - be all right. I'll be fine,*_ he thought, and Oz backed off. Xander was still vague - caught up in his work - and Spike did his best to keep the link calm.

"I see. There are - several other people here as well - Dawn has an impressive number of contacts." Mrs. Kroger rattled her papers and Spike nodded.

 _*Who bloody else? Not demon-girl, I hope….*_ "She has a lot of people who love her, Mrs. Kroger," Spike said smoothly, and the woman looked blankly at him, as if not quite believing him.

"Yes. I see that a...Daniel Osbourne also resides here? Is _he_ here?"

"No. He works downtown. It's just me right now. Is that a problem?" He let a slight frown cross his face - leaned forward, projecting as much sincerity as he could. Mrs. Kroger smelled of hairspray and patchouli.

"Oh, no, mister...Will. I just like to meet as many people as I can. So what do _you_ do?" Spike stared at her, his mind utterly blank.

"He's in a band," Dawn said brightly, startling them both, and Spike turned to look at her, making a face where Mrs. Kroger couldn't see. Dawn grinned and came to sit down next to him again, her face pink but the laughter under control, apparently.

"Yeah, a band. They play all over the place - they're getting real famous!" Mrs. Kroger nodded, making a note, and Spike gritted his teeth.

"Well, not _terribly_ famous. But you have to do something. I'm - going back to school in the spring." _*Heard the Slayer and Glinda talk about it enough, I can do school-talk….*_

"Oh? Well that's good. School is very important." Mrs. Kroger looked ready to pounce and Spike quickly out-flanked her.

"It _is_ important, Mrs. Kroger - very important. We've all been very - upset about the liberties Dawn has taken in school. But I can assure you - she's back on track now. Aren't you, Bit?" Dawn scowled at him, then turned a sweet smile on the woman.

"Yeah. I - uh - there was...my mom, and...that really upset me. And my dad - he just...isn't around. Sometimes it's hard to concentrate on stuff like math when - when you feel all alone." Dawn said, and Spike wanted to roll his eyes. He settled for another knee-pat instead, and Mrs. Kroger nodded slowly.

_*Christ, Niblet, law it on with a trowel! Just - promise you'll be good so we can throw this bint out!*_

"I understand that losing your mother was hard, Dawn, but that was - some time ago. Don't you think that -?"

"It wasn't even a year ago -" Spike interrupted, his voice dropping to a growl as _*anger sorrow*_ flowed out from Dawn.

"Losing a parent affects everyone d-differently," a voice said, and they looked up in startlement, seeing Tara standing in the doorway, clutching her backpack. "I lost my mother - years ago. It s-still hurts me. I'm Tara Maclay." Tara came forward, her hand out, and Mrs. Kroger got to her feet. She shook hands, then looked down at her folder.

"Maclay? I don't see your name here."

"Oh, no. You don't. I'm just staying here temporarily. I - was in a bad situation with a roommate who was - out of control. Xander and S - everyone are l-letting me stay here until I can find something of m-my own."

"Oh, I see." Mrs. Kroger sat down again, making more notes, and Tara made a wide-eyed face at Spike and Dawn, and then moved around to sit in the other recliner, the one they'd moved over from the old house. 

"So you live here - and Mr. Osbourne, Mr. Harris, Mr. Sinclair... That seems like a lot of people for this house! Must be pretty crowded." She looked around her, and Spike fought the demon, wanting her _out. *Protect pack protect family*_ thrumming in the link and Xander was aware, now, and telling him _*calm*_ and Oz the same. He breathed deeply and smiled some more, wondering if it looked as awful as it felt.

"Dawn has her own room upstairs, Mrs. Kroger," Spike said quietly, and she looked sharply at him.

"Does she now? I'd like to see it, please. Dawn, if you'd be so kind?" She stood up and Dawn shot a worried glance at them both. Spike nodded, trying to look relaxed.

"I don’t think I le-ft a mess, Dawn - go ahead," Tara said, standing up as well. "Dawn's letting me use her room while I'm - in transition," Tara added, smiling, and Mrs. Kroger made a note and followed Dawn upstairs. When they heard Dawn's door open, Spike jumped up and vamped, growling.

" _Bloody_ hell! That woman -" _*Gotta do this right, gotta be calm, Bit's fine, she's fine....*_ The demon was raging - was _terrified_ \- and Spike couldn't figure out why. They had a handle on this! But the demon was incoherent -confused and angry, and he felt his control slipping. Felt his hold on things rippling out of place, becoming unsteady. Tara shushed him. "She's just doing her job. You're doing great, Spike, r-really." 

"Hate this," Spike muttered, pacing. He ran his hand back through his hair and wondered if he dared smoke a cigarette. _*Protect protect protect...not pack...dark in here...don't trust them, don't - see them - who's here...?*_ He felt - wrong. He felt lost. Tara was saying something and he couldn't hear her and he shook his head helplessly. The demon _howled_ , and Spike struggled for control. _*Dawn's here, she's safe, we're - fuck, fuck, fuck, where **is** she, where's - Xander, can't - why can't I hear Dawn, why can't I hear Tara? Family, should hear the family -*_

 _*Calm calm - love, what is it, what is it?*_ from Xander, insistent, and he shut his eyes, breathing in ragged pants.

 _*Tell me - can't...see...safe? Is it safe? Xander - where -*_ The phone rang, startling him, and Tara went to pick it up, looking frightened. A moment later she came over to Spike, holding it out.

"Spike? It's Xander. Talk to him." Spike took the phone, his hand shaking hard.

"Xander?"

"Spike - it's okay. What's - what's going on? Just - calm down, love, please. It's safe."

"I can't - think. There's - something...." He couldn't _remember_ , suddenly, where everyone was - couldn't remember if the Slayer was there or dead - if _Dawn_ was dead or if he'd saved her and he groped through the sudden fog in his mind - felt Tara's hand on his arm, guiding him into the kitchen and getting him to sit down.

"Spike, it's okay. I'm coming home. Oz is. Just - hold on, okay? You have to just - calm down. Dawn's safe, Tara's there - it's _okay_."

"What is this?" Spike whispered, shaking hard. He put his head down on the table, his fingernails digging into the wood, the phone creaking in his other hand as he all but crushed it. "What _is_ this? What - Xander, it's all....come loose, it's -"

"It's okay, it's okay!" _*Calm calm, love you! Look - it's all fine, it's all good....*_ Images in the link that Xander was pouring out to him - Buffy alive, all of them together, Dawn safe - and Spike latched onto them fiercely, forcing himself to calm down, forcing himself to _see._

_*What the fuck is this? I'm not - it's like that fuckin' bitch is in my head, it's like that ward-magic the mage does, it's….*_

_*Hold fast, Spike. Right? Hold fast, I'm coming, I'm coming,*_

_*Pack pack pack*_ from Oz, closer and closer and suddenly the back door - specially rigged - flew open and the wolf bounded in, moving fast. He was across the room and against Spike; hot, panting breath and heaving ribs, russet fur warm from the sun and Spike slid off the chair and folded himself around Oz, burying his face in the fur that smelled of _*cinnamon, magic, almonds, family family*_

_*Safe, we're safe, I'm here, hold on - hold on….*_ And Spike did.

 

"What did she do to me, love?" Spike asked softly, and Xander shifted a little, pulling him closer. They were on the couch and Spike was between Xander's legs, leaning back against his chest. Oz was there as well, Spike's legs in his lap, his fingers gently rubbing ankle-bones and shins, cupping his toes. Tara and Dawn were on the floor, within reach, and Spike kept putting his hand out, touching Dawn's hair or Tara's shoulder. Xander hugged him closer - buried his face in Spike's neck for a moment.

 _*Love you love you.*_ "I don't know, Spike. I don't know. But we'll fix it. I mean - Willow got Tara back so we can - we can find a way to fix whatever Glory did. Promise, love." Spike was just - numb, in the link - _*family family pack safe here here here*_ Desperate for confirmation and they were trying - were staying close, touching him - trying to ground him. Xander kept his own terror locked down tight.

_*What if that fucking chip did some damage, anyway, and then Glory just - made it worse? What if - fuck - what if it **can't** be fixed? God...love you, love you, safe now….*_

"Spike? I still - get nightmares. I sometimes just - lose it for a second. I don't think - I think it's just...the aftermath. I think you'll g-get better." Tara looked scared and a little guilty, and Spike turned wide eyes on her, touching her cheek.

"Glinda, you should have said, you - are you okay, pet? You -"

"Yeah, I'm - fine, I'm just saying it's - What she did was pretty extreme, it's not something you can just...shrug off."

"You should have told us, Tara," Oz said softly, smiling at her. "We want to help - with anything, you know?"

"Yeah, I know," Tara whispered, looking down, and Dawn took her hand. There was the roar of an engine and the screech of tires, and running feet. Oz looked sharply at the door, tense, and Derio burst through, wild-eyed. Something - _changed_ \- something seemed to charge the air, and Xander felt Spike relax in his arms that little bit more. Felt _himself_ relax, and felt the wave of relief from Oz, and something like it from Dawn.

_*God, this is getting so - weird….*_

" _Dios mio_ , Oz, _Que paso?! Ta bien?_ " Derio stopped - took a huge breath - walked _fast_ over to Oz and kissed him hard. Then he turned to Spike, Oz's hand tight in his, and finally spoke in English. "Spike, you okay? I got this - this horrible feeling -" He shuddered all over and Spike smiled at him, leaning forward to gently rub his shoulder.

"I'm - okay now. Let - let Oz or...Xander tell you. I'm just...tired." Spike slid down a little, burrowing into Xander's arms, and Xander hugged him close, kissing his hair, his forehead.

 _*Family's all here, pack's all here, we're safe, safe*_ he thought, and Spike sighed and closed his eyes.

 

 

_____________________  
Quoted passages are from _'Captains Courageous'_ \- Rudyard Kipling  
_Dios mio, Oz, Que paso?!_ \- My God, Oz, what the Hell is going on?  
_Ta bien?_ \- Are you all right?

Thank you, Jillapet, for translating!


	11. Enemies

Spike was walking down by the river. Just strolling, really. Remembering. 

_* **There** was where wolfling was, and **here** was where we went into the river, and there....fuck, there was where we fucked and it was bloody good....*_ He'd been doing this every night for nearly two weeks. _Remembering_. Because - whatever happened at the house - whatever that _fit_ was - it would _not_ happen again. It had scared him, that slip. He'd had fuzzy moments, since Glory. A minute here or there when he just wasn't sure what was going on. But they'd been fleeting - easily put aside.

 _That_ had been horrible. He'd knelt there on the kitchen floor for twenty minutes, give or take. Holding desperately to Oz, sliding in and out of _knowing_ like a needle through cloth - sometimes on the right side, sometimes not. The woman from the state had been ushered out, and Spike knew Tara had pushed her just the tiniest bit - told her that everything was _fine_ in just that way so the woman walked out without asking after Mr. Sinclair. He'd _felt_ that, that push - it had shivered over him and made him keen in terror - it had twisted him inside out for a minute or more and thank God, thank God - Xander had come in the door then, Xander had added himself to the link and to _him_ \- physically holding him, stroking work-rough hands over and over his arms and neck and hair - had lifted him and carried him to the couch while Oz darted into the back for clothes.

 _That_ was what had brought him back - Oz and Xander piling on, physically anchoring him and then Dawn, holding his hand in a death-grip, and Tara the same. Solid presence, holding him against the swell and toss of whatever dark sea he was lost in, the link thick with them - with love and reassurance and _*pack family safe, safe, safe.*_

 _*Fucking Hellgod.*_ He fumed quietly, smoking, standing and looking at the glinting surface of the river - at the far shore where willows and cottonwood dipped down towards the water. Even without his vamp-face on, he could see the bare limbs swaying and threshing in the breeze. _*Glinda can help - she knows...and the Watcher.*_ He shook his head, thinking of Tara. She'd been so upset, the next day, guilty over the push she'd aimed at Mrs. Kroger. Second and third-guessing herself and her anger with Willow. They'd talked about it, and she'd finally let it go, but vowed quietly to never, _ever_ do it again. Spike wanted to tell Tara that she could do ten times the magic Red did and never do the harm, because Tara thought things through, and she _listened_. She was a sea-anchor - a tap root that went deep - and she would have to truly _want_ to hurt someone for her magics to be bad.

A report from Dawn - that Willow had gone out with Amy and spent all night doing magics all over town, had made her sink a little deeper into her sadness - but firm her resolve to not go back until Willow managed to stop. Privately, Spike didn't think she'd ever get the chance to go back, and he was glad. Willow - had hurt Tara enough, and he wouldn't let his pack be touched again.

Finishing his cigarette, Spike flicked it away and started walking again. In three weeks, it would be Christmas. This year the same as the last, with only the Slayer's house being decorated, and the rest of them planning their holiday around what Dawn might like. Tara had told her all about the Solstice - told her they'd stay up all night with a fire on the beach and sing King Lugh back up into the sky - send the Lord of Misrule back to sleep.

 _*And then the New Year and then it's two years I've had my love and we're still here in this misbegotten hole. We've got to get **out** of here...it's not safe....*_ Spike shook his head. He wasn't going to think about that, not right now. Not out here in the dark, when his family was so far away. He felt for Xander and Oz and smiled to himself. Xander was at home, on the back porch, braving the few bugs drawn to the porch light to finish the gift he was making for Buffy. A beautifully carved chest, lined with cedar, ornamented with brass. He was making things for everyone - useful things, practical things. But everything was decorated in high relief and low; carved with birds and flowers, animals and stars and leafing vines. He spent hours rubbing the wood smooth, and working oil into it to make it glow - polishing and perfecting and Spike felt a swelling of pride every time he saw the beautiful things his Xander made.

 _*A handsome man and a goodly man and a man of talent and skill….*_ He grinned to himself. Xander made him think in poet's words, and that was…. _*A wonder. You're a wonder, my love.*_ Warmth, all through the link and Xander right there, practically inside him.

_*I'm not any more special than you are. I love you...my Spike, my own….*_

_*Love, you've no idea.*_ Spike had to close his eyes, almost reeling from the flood of love and warmth and _want_ that Xander sent - _pack_ and _family_. From Oz came much the same - contentment and love and connection and he sent it all back as hard as he could. Oz was out as well; it was the full moon, and he didn't _have_ to change but he always felt restless, and Derio had encouraged him - told him it was natural for the wolf to want to be out and that he should go. The night was overcast - rain imminent - but the moon still called him. Spike had felt it, through the link, a wordless, skirling song that Oz wanted to dance to - howl to - hunt to. Oz was somewhere...south, loping through a neighborhood, tailing a small demon that seemed to prey on household pets. A hunt that would settle him and send him home relaxed. Spike smiled, sliding into the images the wolfling was sending for just one moment and he practically jumped out of his skin as a ripple of - _something_ \- washed over him. He froze, concentrating. He could hear a fight - flesh against flesh and a cry - and felt a familiar itching at the back of his skull.

 _*Slayer? What the hell - she's not dusting a vamp -*_ He looked up, searching the top of the bluff. There was a cemetery half a mile away, but the riverbank here was all trees - a thin tongue of forest that the city hadn't cleared yet for more graves. The land sloped rather sharply up, and Spike could only see tree-tops and tufts of dead grass.

_*Spike? What is it?*_

_*Don't know, love, it's -*_ There was a sudden thudding flurry and Spike whirled around - watched a body flop and tumble its way to the bottom of the steep incline. There was a crashing, and a moment later Buffy was stumbling down the hill, tripping and skidding and catching wildly at winter-bare branches.

"Oh my God - oh, my God -" She was mumbling to herself and Spike strode towards her, watching as she frantically turned the body over, feeling for a pulse.

"Slayer? What -"

"Ahh! Oh - God, Spike!" Buffy leapt half-way to her feet, startled, and then slumped back down, her eyes huge and bewildered looking under the knitted cap she wore. "I think - I killed her. She's dead and I killed her!" Buffy's voice was rising - getting a little hysterical - and Spike moved swiftly - knelt down beside the body. A college-age girl, definitely dead. Spike took a deep breath - reached out and carefully felt the body, testing.

_*Jesus - Spike, what in hell?*_

_*Something's not right….*_

_*Question*_ from Oz, faint but steady, and Spike shook his head.

 _*Don't know - hang on....*_ "Slayer - calm down. She's _hours_ dead. Already going into rigor. And I can smell -" Spike stopped talking because Buffy looked like she might be sick. She stared at him, shivering.

"What - what do you mean? How can she - she was _screaming_ , she was being attacked and -" Spike lifted his head suddenly, scenting - _listening_. He put his finger up to his lips, and then in one swift, near-silent move he was on his feet and running. He saw the figure - the _spy_ \- dart out from behind a tree and make a run for it, struggling clumsily through the underbrush. He accelerated and pounced, bringing the fleeing figure down and rolling once, twice. He pinned its arms to the dirt - got one knee sharply into a heaving abdomen and looked down in disbelief at the face of the dead girl.

 

 _*I'm still confused,*_ Xander thought, and got back the mental equivalent of a snort.

 _*So am I. But we'll have this sorted soon.*_ Xander did a rolling stop through a deserted intersection and then accelerated up the street, heading for Giles' house. It had started to rain and the windshield wipers were a slow and steady counterpoint to the wilder beating of his heart. Spike and Buffy were almost at the older man's house; Spike carrying the body, Buffy carrying the - body - which wasn't dead. Oz was nearly there as well, streaking across town, demon prey forgotten. Xander had a bundle of clothes for him in a bag that Tara was holding in her lap.

"So this is what it's like to _really_ be a Scooby," she said, grinning at him. "Called out in the middle of the night to bring clothes for naked werewolves."

Xander grinned back, nodding. "Oh yeah. At least it's not a naked vampire. _I_ wouldn't mind, but I don't think Buffy or Giles would appreciate it. And calling Giles at ten o'clock at night to tell him Spike and Buffy are bringing _bodies_ to his house? Not so much fun." Derio they'd left behind, asleep in Oz's bed. He had an early morning, and didn't feel quite as comfortable around Ethan as Oz did.

 _*Their magics don't get along,*_ Oz had said, meaning that whatever gifts Derio had - the Knowing, he called it - jangled rather badly with Ethan's perpetual, chaotic seepage.

Xander made the last turn, pulling into the parking lot and there was a thump behind him. He glanced in his rear-view mirror and saw Oz in the truck-bed, panting, mouth wide in a wolfish grin.

 _*Pack,*_ the ever-present hum that identified Oz more than anything, and Xander braked to a slow stop and they got out. Oz leapt lightly down, pushing his nose under Tara's hand, leaning into her legs for a moment.

_*Spike's just a the door-*_

_*What in **bloody hell** -!*_

_Crap - what now?*_ "Gotta hurry," Xander said. He grabbed Tara's hand and they ran up the sidewalk and down the stairs, the rain falling harder now, pattering on car-roofs and the sidewalk, bringing a strong ozone smell to the air, and the rich scent of wet earth and leaves. Oz bounded ahead, his wet fur clumping in spikes. Giles' door was open, and Buffy was inside - Spike in the doorway itself, body slung over his shoulder. Voices were being raised, and:

 _*Angelus, **Darla** , what the **fuck** \- ?*_ from Spike, all-over shiver of familiarity and dislike.

 _*Darla? What - Spike, is Giles all right? What's going on?*_ They got up to the doorway themselves and Giles was standing there, looking harried. Ethan was at the breakfast bar, perched on a stool and looking gleefully amused. And there was a stranger - a man - worn jeans and work-shirt, scruffy beard, dark hair, glasses. He was holding something.

"What is it?" Tara whispered, and Xander shook his head.

"I don't - know. Something strange is going on. Spike - come on, we're getting wet."

"Watcher, what the fuck is going on? Where's the bitch? Where's _Angelus?_ " Spike was as tense as a bow-string, vamped and growling and Oz was trying to push past him into the apartment, growling a little himself. Spike's hair was wet - raindrops were spangling on his eyelashes and beading on the shoulders of his coat.

 _*Fuck. So beautiful...I just want to **be** with him. I'm so sick of all this damn Hellmouth crap….*_ For the first time, Xander truly felt he could simply walk away from Sunnydale and never come back. The rush of pleased surprise from Spike made him smile.

"Spike, if you would come in I could explain - there's really no need for everyone to be standing on my doorstep, getting soaked! Especially -" Giles lowered his voice, taking a step closer, "since you are carrying a _body_. Now _get in here_."

 _*Angel's not here. Go in!*_ Oz was frustrated and he grabbed the edge of Spike's duster in his teeth and pulled.

"Oi! Wolf - you'll tear it! And how do _you_ know -?" Another growl from Oz and Spike hissed in frustration. "Fine, then. I'm coming in. But if the bastard and the bitch are here, somebody's going to be _bloody_ sorry!" Spike finally stomped in and Xander and Tara exchanged looks of bewilderment and followed. Buffy had put her own body - a blond-haired girl - on Giles' couch, and Spike took the person he was carrying and laid her out on the floor. They were identical. Giles shut the door, locking it, and Ethan got up from the stool, eyeing the figure on the couch.

"That's a - glamour. An illusion of some sort." He went over to the unconscious girl and put his fingertips on her forehead. "Let go, let go," he murmured, and the figure rippled - reformed. It was a boy, slight and dark-haired, pale. A bruise on his jaw and a trickle of blood coming from his nose.

"Hey! I know him!" Buffy was staring at the boy. Tara handed the bag of clothes over to Oz and he trotted away down the hall, bag swinging from his jaws, going to the downstairs bathroom. Spike was glaring at the stranger, who was staring at him with wide, frightened eyes.

"Rupert, you never said - _William the Bloody?_ In your home? I thought -" the man shook his head, cuddling his bundle closer. "Good Lord, man!"

"Wesley?" Xander asked, incredulous, sudden recognition flooding him. He sent it through the link, fast, telling Oz and Spike. _*He's a Watcher! They sent him for Buffy when Giles got kicked out - he's ...really changed. What's he doing **here**?*_

"Yes, I'm - Xander? Xander Harris? Good Lord." Wesley looked at him in shock and Xander had to grin.

" _Wesley?_ " Buffy gaped at the man - shook her head in disbelief. "Okay - _what_ is going on? I thought _I_ was in the middle of something weird...Giles? Wanna explain?"

"Not really," Giles said, sitting down heavily on a stool and Ethan went over to him, settling beside him and putting one hand lightly on his shoulder, rubbing.

"It's all right, love," he murmured, and Giles gave him a tired smile, patting his hand.

"Please - if everyone will sit down - Tara, good heavens, I didn't see you - please, sit down...." Buffy and Tara took the couch on either side of the unconscious boy. Xander went to where Spike was standing and tugged his hand - got him to sit on the floor facing Giles. Wesley took the armchair, fussing over his blanket-wrapped bundle, and a moment later Oz came out from the bathroom, dressed and carrying towels. He handed them out to Spike and Buffy and Tara. His own hair was sticking up in the exact damp tufts the wolf's had been, and Xander had to suppress the sudden laugh that came with the mental image of Oz doing a full-body shake, spraying water everywhere.

 _*Did that in the bathroom,*_ Oz thought, grinning.

_*How come I don't get a towel?*_

_*You have to share with Spike. And Giles is out of towels.*_ Quick image of the bathroom - muddy paw prints and water spattered everywhere, and Xander snorted into his fist, trying not to laugh aloud.

"Oz?" Wesley murmured, and Oz nodded at him and sat on the other side of Spike. They unconsciously leaned together, touching where they could, and Wesley stared at them for one moment, wide-eyed, and then turned his head to Giles as well. Spike scrubbed fiercely at his hair and then dropped the towel on Xander's head. Xander gratefully wiped his own face off and rubbed at his hair, squeezing the ends so it wouldn't drip all down his damp shoulders. He glanced sidelong at the vampire's wildly spiked hair, wishing he could run his fingers through it. But that didn't seem quite appropriate, just then.

"Right - all settled then? To begin - You all seem to remember Wesley - Wesley Wyndam-Price, Tara, also an...an ex-member of the Council and former Watcher for Buffy."

"She had two?" Tara asked, and Xander had to grin. A year ago, Tara wouldn't have said a word.

"Yes, she has and - it's a very long story. We'll discuss it later, if you don't mind. This is Tara Maclay, Wesley. She's - she is also a witch."

"I see. Pleased to meet you, Ms Maclay," Wesley said, smiling faintly.

"Tara, please, M-mr -"

"Oh, you must call me Wesley - we're all on a first-name basis here, I'm sure," Wesley said, and Tara smiled, ducking her head. Xander couldn't believe his eyes - or his ears. Wesley was - totally different, even to the way he held himself, and spoke.

_*Wonder what the hell's happened to him? He's -*_

_*Not quite the total prat he was? Wonder why in **hell** he's here, and why he just reeks of the poof?*_ Spike slipped his pack of cigarettes out and lit up, totally ignoring Giles' glare. "Glad we're all so comfy and friendly-like, but I want to know what the hell is going on, and _why_ it involves Darla and her bloody Irish git." Spike was staring hard at Wesley, who looked over at Giles. Giles sighed and nodded.

"The reason you're confused is because - because of this." Wesley leaned forward, pulling the blanket aside from the bundle in his arms. A baby's face was revealed, relaxed in sleep. There was a long moment of silence, and then Buffy leaned forward, smiling.

"A baby? How does a baby have anything to do with - anything? Is it a boy or a girl? It's so cute!" Buffy was inching closer and Wesley smiled back, turning the baby a little so she could see better.

"It's a boy - his name is Connor and - he's Angel's son. Angel and Darla's...child." This time the silence lasted for a full minute, and Buffy just blinked at the infant, then looked up at Giles.

"Am I on drugs? Is this whole evening courtesy of Demerol and in a few minutes I'm going to wake up in the hospital with a broken leg or something?"

 _*Oh man, this **cannot** be good,*_ Xander thought, and Oz silently agreed. A rising tide of irritation was coming from Spike - irritation and anger, and Xander hoped for calm, sent it urgently through the link.

"Vampires can't have _babies_ ," Spike said, and his glare was gold-tinged and murderous. "What in hell are you playing at, Watcher?"

"Ex-watcher, actually," Wesley said mildly, settling back in the chair. He held the baby comfortably, obviously at ease with his role of care-giver. "As a rule, you're right; a vampire cannot impregnate anyone or _become_ impregnated. However - there is a law firm in Los Angeles, called Wolfram and Hart. They used some...very dark magics to bring Darla back to life. As a human. They then somehow convinced Drusilla to turn her into a vampire. And then - Angel and Darla.... Anyway, Connor was the result. We still don't actually know - how." Wesley flicked a glance at Buffy at this. She was sitting on the edge of the couch, looking lost and a little hurt. Tara looked as confused as Xander felt, but the glance she sent Buffy's way was full of compassion.

_*Damn, bet Buffy's hurting….*_

_*She'd never have been able to do that with him, anyway - why should she care?*_ Spike asked grumpily. He took a long drag of his cigarette and plumed the smoke upwards, staring at the ceiling. 

"Darla - killed herself so Connor could be born."

"First time that bitch has ever done something I liked," Spike muttered, and Wesley glanced at him.

"Yes, well - she was very...different, when she was pregnant. It was interesting." He paused for a moment, smoothing the blanket over the baby's chest. "Angel loves his child. Very much. But there is a - a prophecy. It says...the father will kill the son. I brought Connor here in the hopes that - that I've somehow translated it incorrectly or - or that it's wrong. If Angel were to harm Connor in any way.... It would kill him." They were all silent again, considering that, and then the unconscious boy in the couch jerked - coughed - and sat up.

"Where - oh my God! The Slayer!" He tried to leap to his feet but tripped himself and fell back, flailing. Tara flinched away from him and Buffy reached over and grabbed a handful of his shirt - jerked him upright.

"Okay - I _know_ you! Johnathan! You were up in the tower, with the gun! And - you gave me the umbrella at Prom! So what are you doing running around in the woods looking like a dead girl?" Johnathan blinked at her - swallowed audibly. He looked a little frantically around the room but everyone was staring stonily back at him, and he put a hand up.

"Now - just wait, okay? I can - I can explain everything. It's all - it's all Warren's fault!"

"Warren? That wanker in the van? The one who made the robot?"

"Huh? Yeah - in the van. He - he made this - cerebral dampener. It - it makes you do whatever we - whatever _he_ tells you to."

"Just tell me how you killed this girl." Buffy gave Johnathan a shake, gesturing with her free hand and he looked wildly from her to the body on the floor.

"I didn't kill her! It was Warren! He hit her! He - he enslaved her and -"

"Shut. Up." Buffy leaned in close to the boy and he tried to lean back, sweating and gasping.

"Why did he kill her, and why didn't you stop him."

"He - look, Katrina was his ex - he didn't tell us she was his ex! We just wanted a girl, you know? And - and he got _her_ and he was getting all stalker-y with her and then the dampener stopped working and - and she kicked us and she knocked Andrew down and ran...." Johnathan wiped at his eyes - looked pleadingly around the room. Spike blew a stream of smoke towards him and he coughed weakly.

 

"Hey, I've got asthma! Don't -"

"Finish your story, you pathetic little git," Spike snarled, vamping, and Johnathan let out a little shriek.

"Oh my God! It _is_ you - it's -" Spike growled again and he swallowed heavily. "Okay, okay. She started to leave - she was getting away and Warren hit her with a bottle of champagne and she fell down...." Johnathan's voice suddenly dropped to a whisper, and his shoulders slumped. "And she was dead. Warren said - said we'd fix it so B-buffy would get the blame."

"You're out of your minds," Xander said, and there was a murmur of agreement from Oz - from Tara. Giles looked as if Ripper was struggling to be free and Buffy was just staring, openmouthed. Wesley looked disturbed, and cuddled Connor closer to his chest.

"I can't believe you three - _freaks_ \- would kill someone and - and - try to _frame me_ for murder! I have a little sister, you know! I - I keep your asses safe from the Hellmouth!" 

"We - we didn't - _Warren_ killed her! I s-said we should call the police -"

"And yet - you ended up in the woods, disguised as a _dead_ girl, watching the Slayer think she'd killed someone." Spike uncoiled gracefully and stalked over to the couch - leaned one hand on the back, his vamp-face inches from Johnathan's. "You have _fucked up_ , you miserable little tosser. How are you gonna fix it?"

Johnathan's face was white - utterly bloodless - and his mouth opened and closed soundlessly for several moments. Buffy let go of his shirt and he shrank as far away from Spike as he could. "I - I - I'm gonna - call the police?"

"Wrong." Spike reached out and tapped him on the side of the head. "Try again, braniac."

"I - I'm going to tell you - e-everything about Warren and - and Andrew and...what we've been doing?"

"Good boy," Spike said, and patted Johnathan's cheek hard enough to make his head snap to the side. He pushed away from the couch and strolled over to the kitchen. "Fancy a shot, Rupert?" he asked, and Giles sighed.

"I'm going to make some tea, actually." Spike opened the cabinet - a different one from the last time - and pulled out a new bottle. "But please, go ahead and drink my alcohol, I don't need it, I'm sure," Giles grumbled, getting up and shouldering past Spike to the sink.

"Ta, mate," Spike said, and cracked the seal.

 _*Stop that, evil undead,*_ Xander thought, getting up as well. _*Good job with the kid, though.*_

_*Look at him, love - the Niblet could intimidate him.*_

_*Dawn's pretty scary, actually,*_ Oz thought, and Xander grinned. He looked over at Johnathan, who had his head in his hands and was leaning with his elbows on his knees, shoulders shaking.

 _*God, this is - pathetic. But maybe we can get them to quit with their idiocy now.*_ He went over to the chair where Wesley was sitting and crouched down next to him.

"So - Wesley. You - what, work with Angel now?" Wesley looked down at him, his blue eyes mild behind his glasses. There were some scars on his knuckles - a small one under his chin - and he just seemed - so much more confident. Relaxed, and capable. It was - a good look on him.

 _*You lustin' for the watcher-boy?*_ Spike asked, amused, and Xander suppressed a laugh.

_*Nah. He's just - I think he's happy, now. It's...nice. He wasn't a bad guy, just - new, you know? We really gave him a hard time.*_

_*If he's workin' for Angel, he probably looks back with longing.*_ "That right, Watcher, you working for Angel now?" Spike called, and came over to stand behind the man.

"Ex, I said." Wesley looked over his shoulder at Spike, frowning just a little. Then he looked back at Xander. "Yes, I'm working for Angel. We - we do a lot of good. Help people."

"Who's we? Buffy asked, and Wesley looked up at her and smiled softly. 

"Well, your old friend Cordelia, for one. And a woman named Winifred Burkle - we call her Fred. And Charles Gunn."

"Yeah - Cordy. We knew she was there. Is she - doing all right?" Xander asked.

"Quite well, actually. She - she's the conduit for visions, now. From the Powers that Be. She sees bad things happening, and tells us and we -" Wesley made a little gesture with his hand, smiling. "We go stop it."

"Really? Visions?" Xander mulled this over. It was hard to imagine Queen C having visions - working for the greater good - but apparently she did. And the warmth and affection in Wesley's voice when he spoke of her made it clear that she was in good hands.

"Yes, she -" a soft burring interrupted him, and Wesley dug into his pocket and pulled out a cell-phone. "Excuse me, Xander. Hello? Gunn, I - Oh...." A long pause and Wesley's eyes went wide, and then he slumped in relief. "Oh, thank _God_. What are you…? Yes.... But don't you think.... Yes, yes, all right. Are you sure? Yes - second shelf behind my desk, it's green with a yellow silk ribbon marker. Yes. I - I hope Angel understands.... Thank you, Charles...yes, love, see you soon - take care." Wesley clicked the phone shut and then just sat for a moment, and Xander could see he was shivering slightly.

"Good news, I hope?" Giles asked softly, and Wesley took a deep breath - lifted his head, smiling.

"Yes - very good news. One of Holtz's soldiers - a woman named Justine - decided to turn traitor. She told us that the prophecy is a false one. That a demon - a demon that can move between dimensions as well as time - changed some things so that...." Wesley took another deep breath and ran one finger lightly along the sleeping baby's cheek. "It's all right, now. We know - what's happening. This Holtz is someone from Angel's - well, Angelus' - past. He wants revenge. They're going to find him - stop him." Wesley seemed on the verge of some emotion and Xander stood and moved away, giving him some privacy. Spike had gone back to sit next to Oz and now he took another long drink from the bottle he had found and looked speculatively over at the ex-watcher.

"So - you and this Gunn, eh?" he said, and Wesley blushed bright red as every eye in the room suddenly fastened on him with curiosity.

_*Spike - good God. We don't care about his sex-life. Do we?*_

_*Well, no. But it's more fun to talk about than some bloke Angelus managed to piss off.*_

_*Why don't we question Johnathan instead? He needs to tell us lots more about him and the Threesome.*_ A snort of laughter from Spike and a nod, and Xander looked over at the boy, who was trying hard not to look at the dead girl on the floor. Tara had, sometime in the last few minutes, gotten a tartan throw off of Giles' couch and draped it over her.

"So - Johnathan. First question - where's your secret lair?"

 

"Well, the lair is empty." Buffy said, coming in Giles' door, her shoulders sagging in disappointment. Spike slipped in behind her, equally put out but for different reasons. Buffy had been hoping to find Warren and pin Katrina's murder on him. Spike had just been hoping for some hunting. They'd left the body there anyway, carefully laying her out as Johnathan had described. Then they'd called the police and complained about screaming - things being broken - and left a door invitingly open. With luck, Katrina would be discovered soon.

"I can't believe they _left_ me -" Johnathan mumbled, and Spike reached over and whacked the back of his head.

"Shut it, you. If I hear that pathetic whine out of your mouth one more time I'm gonna -"

"Please, Spike." Giles held up a hand wearily and Spike subsided, glaring at the boy who cringed away and went to slump on the couch. Tara and Oz had gone home - Xander had gone by to check on Dawn and Willow, and do a slow drive through Sunnydale, just in case. Spike could hear him in the link, tired and frustrated. He hadn't found anything either. Wesley was upstairs with Connor, and the combined scents of his former companions was thick throughout the apartment. 

_*Drivin' me out of my mind,*_ he thought. _*I need to get out of here.*_

*Meet me up the street then, love, and we'll go home. Nearly dawn, anyway.* Spike nodded to himself and looked over at Giles.

"So, what are we gonna do with the Mini-me, then?" Giles stared at him, confused.

"The what? Really, Spike, for a Victorian man you use the _oddest_ terms -"

"Watcher. _Not_ a man, and not a Victorian anymore. What are we gonna do with the boy?"

"Ah - ummm... I - don't really know. I can't keep him in the bath," with a quick glance at Spike, "and with Wesley and the baby here I really don't have much space at all." Giles made a small gesture to his sitting room, where Ethan was curled into a sleeping bag on the floor, dead asleep.

"Yeah - you don't. We're pretty much out of room, too. Guess he's yours, Slayer."

"Huh?" Buffy had been sitting at the breakfast bar, head on hands, zoning out with her eyes half-shut.

"The boy - you're gonna take him home and keep him. See he doesn't do anything stupid."

"What? But - but I don't -"

"You've got the room, Watcher's got the chains - it'll be fine."

"Chains?" Johnathan popped up off the couch and stumbled over the edge of a rug - caught himself against the Watcher's desk. "You can't just - lock me up! I'm not an -an animal! I have rights! I -I should get a phone call and - and a lawyer -"

"This isn't _Law & Order_, you pillock. You three have been causing havoc and threatening the Slayer's family." Spike stalked towards the boy who paled, hunching away. "You're _lucky_ she doesn't just hand you over to _me_. You'll go with her, you'll behave, and you'll keep your hands, eyes, and thoughts _off_ Slayer's little sis. Understood?" Spike stood inches from the boy, vamped and snarling, smelling his utter terror.

"Y-y-yes, sir, yes I'll - won't even look, I'll - I'll -"

"Good boy," Spike smirked, patting the rounded, tear-stained cheek and the boy all but fell over trying to get away.

"Really, Spike, is it utterly necessary -"

"Goes faster this way, don't you think? Xander's waiting on me - I'm off home. Don't call." Spike whirled around and strode out, pulling the door to behind him and lighting up as he jogged up the steps and across the parking lot, the rain still falling in slanting lines, cool on his face. Xander's truck was idling at the end of the block and he slid into the seat - cuddled close and got a long, sweet kiss from the human.

_*Always taste so good, always smell so good, love.*_

Xander's fingers curled into his hair and pulled him a little closer, and he sighed happily as Spike let the purr rumble up to audibility. _*You do too, Spike...God...want you....*_

Spike let his mouth trail down, kissing over Xander's jaw and then throat and he felt him yawn. "You're so tired, love. Let's go home and get you in bed."

"But I want to feel you, Spike - want you in me." Xander protested, and then yawned again, and Spike chuckled into his neck.

"Here's what we'll do, love. We'll get home and take a shower, right? Get all warm and clean. And then we'll slip into bed...." Spike got his hand under the edge of Xander's shirt and stroked the lean belly and ribs - let his fingers dip down under the waist of Xander's jeans and Xander sighed softly. "And I'll slip into _you_ , love.... And you can just sleep, love, just drift away and I'll stay in you all night, all morning...." Xander shuddered, breathing in sharply, and his eyes flashed green at Spike, wide and wicked.

"You can do that, Spike?"

 _*Course I can,*_ Spike thought, kissing Xander's throat again - rasping his tongue over the scar so that Xander twisted, his hips rocking up into Spike's hand.

 _*God...fuck yeah. Let's go.*_ Spike smiled, and settled himself so that he was touching all of Xander that he could, and they drove through the darkness, the rain ticking and sliding over the glass.

 

Two days later Buffy came into the Magic Box, looking pissed off.

"Well, Johnathan's gone. The little bastard." Xander looked up in surprise at her tone - at _bastard_ , because Buffy rarely said anything like that.

"Gone how? What happened?"

"His little rat-fink friends came for him. They had some demon - I think that Andrew can call them or something. Anyway, I was fighting it off and they got him loose - took off."

"Jesus. You okay? Is Dawn -?"

"She wasn't home." Buffy slumped down into a chair, watching Xander listlessly as he put the last touch on a bookshelf for Giles. Xander watcher her out of the corner of his eye as he swept up sawdust and tidied - moved the empty shelf into position under the loft staircase. She took a sharp breath, suddenly, and her eyes closed.

"Buffy - you all right?" he asked, and Buffy looked up at him and there was something… _shining_... Something so tangible. It was as if -

"I'm - fine. I just.... Sometimes? When I feel really...lost...it's like...there's a tug. A kind of little - pull. To get my attention, maybe? And it feels like.... It feels like mom is kissing me again, like she did when I was...in heaven." Buffy's fingers had been resting lightly on her sternum, where Xander had seen that insubstantial rope of mist and witch-fire stretching away to nothing.

 _*The tether. Is that what it really is? She's still - connected - to heaven?*_ The thought shook him, and he went slowly over to a chair and sank down. Buffy watched him, smiling just a little, her eyes glimmering.

"Do you think - it might be?" she asked, and Xander couldn't help it - he laughed.

"Buffy - considering it's you? I'm sure it is." He just grinned at her then, because she looked _happy_ , and that was nice. She grinned back.

"I can't believe it's going to be Christmas so soon. Do you think...could you guys take Dawn for - for the day after and...up until New Years, maybe?" Xander widened his eyes in surprise at her.

"You planning on a vacation?" Buffy looked anxious for a moment and then sighed, looking down.

"Okay... You can tell me I'm being an idiot all you want... But Angel calls Wesley every day - like, five times a day! Checking on Conner. And - and sometimes we talk. And...they'll have this Holtz guy out of the picture by Christmas. Half of his people are gone or - well, Angels says _sent back_ , and I'm not sure what that means but.... Anyway, he wants me to come down to L.A. He wants.... Wants me to spend some time with him and Conner." Buffy looked - well, Xander couldn't really tell _how_ Buffy looked. Eager? Happy? Nauseous? She was poking at a book, turning the pages, fiddling with the ribbon marker and Xander reached out and touched her hand.

"Hey - whatever you want to do is fine, Buff. You know that. I'm not gonna - not gonna tell you you're crazy or anything. You know - well.... You know I don't like Angel but that's kinda my problem."

Buffy nodded, still staring at the book. She sighed a little, making a face. "I really think - I don't think I can ever feel about him like I did, you know? And I'm pretty sure it's the same for him. But it's like - we've been through the same things and shared so much.... And I don't have to put up a front with him, you know?"

Xander nodded silently, wincing a little. Willow - still prodded at Buffy to 'get happy'. Still wanted to act as if what she'd done meant nothing at all. Oh, she _said_ she was sorry - had baked cookies and gotten all sniffley, even. But her eyes told a different story - her eyes said _'praise me, see me, thank me, love me'_ , and though they were all willing to do _some_ of those things, they weren't willing to do _all_ of them, and Willow...just couldn't grasp that. She was spending more and more time with Amy, and Dawn said she was doing - a lot of magic. Said she acted weird sometimes, like she was drunk. But she didn't smell like alcohol. It was making them all nervous, and Giles had stepped up his plans to get her to England - to the coven that he said could help. 

"Buffy... I think it's great. If Angel - if you can talk to him and feel...I dunno - happy, or - or at least, not _un_ happy, then - that's great. I think you should do it. And yeah, we'll keep Dawn, you know we will."

Buffy looked up at him finally, and the troubled look on her face melted into a huge smile - a Buffy-smile from years ago, when the world hadn't been so hard, and so cold, and the death and despair and just plain ugliness of her life hadn't mounted up as high as the sky. Xander smiled back, and they both jumped up at Giles plaintive call for help. The older man had a stack of books he was struggling with, and they shelved cracked volumes of demon lore and esoteric magic until twilight, when Spike cat-prowled in, looking for a kiss and something to kill.

And Buffy just laughed, and invited them out on patrol.


	12. Hidden

Xander came awake abruptly and he lay in the bed, frozen, searching for what had roused him. _*Bed's empty...Spike was **in** bed - Spike? Love, where -?*_ He sent his awareness out along the link, searching. And Spike - wasn't there. Well, he _was_ there, but it was that strange, fuzzy blank that was him when he was - _*Forgetting. Spike's forgetting. Fuck, where **is** he?*_ Xander scrambled out of bed and into his robe - went rapidly and silently down the hall. Sleep-thoughts from Oz, silence from Dawn's room where Tara lay. He caught the faint glow of light from the corner of his eye and was going down the stairs before he made the conscious decision. At the foot of the stairs he stopped dead and stared.

Spike was sitting at the desk - _his_ desk. The one Xander had secretly made for him, and given to him at Solstice. Sitting with his hair sleep-tousled, paper spread before him. His brocade robe wrapped tightly around him, a candelabrum of candles burning at the corner. The glasses - the prop ones he'd used to 'dress up' for his bet with Dawn - were clutched in his right hand, and he leaned on it, staring down. His left hand held a pen and he was writing rapidly, his lips moving a little. He looked -

 _*Looks like when he was human. Like his own memory in his head of himself. Like William. Harris, what's going on? We can't have this - fragmentation.*_ _*He's not fragmented, for fuck's sake -*_

" _Taisbean,_ " Xander whispered, because he had to _know_ , and maybe that would help. And Spike was there, shining like fire and sunlight together. The demon and the human soul more closely entwined than they ever had been - one entity. But the sparks were duller - blacker - and there were shadows like dapples all through the pale-gold of the soul's bodies. Through Spike's _head_ , and Xander felt his stomach knot in dread and horror. The shadows were faint, but they were there. Xander took a moment to take a deep breath - another. His heart was pounding and he felt...ill. He wiped his hands on his robe and walked slowly over to the vampire, who glanced up at him, flash of confused blue.

"Spike? What're you doing, love? Don't you want to come to bed?"

"I really just need to get this down, before I forget," Spike replied, and Xander blinked. Perfect diction - like Giles. And no recognition.

Xander swallowed heavily, his fear ratcheting up a notch. "Spike? What are you writing? Can you tell me?"

"Oh, I -" Eyes up again, so confused, and Spike smiled at him, tiny little nervous smile. "I really have a terrible head for this sort of thing. I forget much too easily. All my tutors have said so. So I thought - I'll write it all down and then...." Another nervous smile and he pushed his hand back through his hair - winced when the glasses tangled in it. He pulled them free and put them down. "And you know, these are not - correct. Someone is playing a joke on me, I really do -" Spike stopped, staring at his hand, which had a cut across the top courtesy of that night's patrol and a fresh coat of black polish on the nails. And a ring he'd recently acquired, a silver band with a Grecian-looking 'X' design all around it. He looked up sharply at Xander. And the link snapped open wide, a torrent of confusion and fear and anger - desperation.

"Why am I...? Xander?" Spike's face was a mask of bewilderment and the link surged with fear - with black, skittering _things_ of thoughts that Spike shoved hard away. Xander crouched down beside him, his hands on thigh and shoulder, helping Spike push the confusion away, anchoring him with:

 _*Safe, you're safe, I'm here - you're home and I came looking for you, you were writing - Spike, my Spike, I'm here, you're safe - Family, family, pack - safe!*_

There was a noise on the stairs and: _*Pack! Pack protect pack, pack - SpikeXanderSpike safe safe*_ Sleep muddled thought from Oz and then the werewolf was there as well, crouching next to Xander, hand on Xander's back - on Spike's - and Spike was slipping out of the chair and down onto the floor with them, reaching out and getting Xander's hand and Oz's in a bone-crushing grip.

"Xander - Xander I was - I couldn't _remember_ and I was - gonna write it down and - and _he_ remembered, but I didn't want - Xander, I can't _remember!_ " Spike was shivering hard and Xander pulled him close, getting Spike's robe-tie loose and his own in quick movements so they could touch skin to skin. Oz got behind, adding his own heat to Spike's back, pulling the edges of Xander's robe around Spike's back as far as he could. Hugging as hard as Xander was, and rubbing his nose into the short hairs at the nape of Spike's neck. His own soul glowing an ashy-rose, the wolf a specter inside it, all lunar-white and black. Sparks of silver and fire-red, of black and green.

 _*Pack protect pack love you love you,*_ from Oz, and _*Love you **love** you, mine, my own, safe here, always,*_ from Xander, fierce and _loud_ , straight at Spike.

"What were you trying to remember, love? Tell me and I'll help you," Xander murmured, his own face in the opposite side of Spike's neck, and Spike shuddered, panting.

"Was - was thinking about the first Christmas I had with Dru and the Angelus and all.... And I c-couldn't _remember_ it -"

"Shhh, it's okay. I can remember it. I've got it. Here - here, love -" Xander thought hard, dredging up Spike's earliest memories as a vampire and the scene came to him, finally.

_*Crowded London streets, bustle of parties and theatricals and weddings at every turn. Good food being cooked, and Wassail; the scents spilling out of every home, thick as cream in the cold, damp air. The people - out and about, so warm and so wonderful, full of life and wine. Snow like black icing over everything, filthy with street-muck but still white and pretty here and there and William, standing under a gas light, flakes falling into his open, upturned mouth - into his eyes. And he can see - he can see the snow falling down from miles above and it's like looking up at the stars only they're moving and whirling and dancing. And he laughs, catching Dru around the waist._

_"Is this what it's like, Dru? Is this what you see? The stars all dancing and the world turning like a top?" And Dru is laughing too, kissing him with her cold, apple-cider mouth, her fingers in his like frozen twigs, her hair satin and spice under his palm and Angelus calls impatiently, lifting Darla up into a hansom, smiling even though he's trying to be stern….*_

"There love, see? I've got it all, I remember, and now you remember, right?" Xander combed his fingers through and through Spike's hair - felt Spike's arms tighten around him and then relax marginally.

"Yeah, I.... We went to see a play and - there was this little girl selling posies outside, Angelus bought some for Dru and Darla and then Dru wanted to take the girl home, give her a happy Christmas...." The rest of that memory was sharp and clear; the table heaped with meat and pies and sweets, the girl drowsy and smiling and incredulous at her luck, and her blood like pale rose wine on Spike's tongue....

Xander hugged Spike hard and then slowly sat back - pulled Spike's robe shut, to keep him warm. "You all right now?" he asked, and Spike sat back on his heels and tugged Oz around to where he could see him.

"Yeah, I'm...we've got to fix this, Xander. This is - bad."

"I know. We'll - we'll go talk to Giles... Damnit!"

"Yeah," Oz said, and they huddled there for a moment in silence. Tomorrow, Giles and Ethan were going with Wesley back to L.A. Holtz was dead, the crisis was over, and Angel was missing his son. And Wesley thought he might have a book or two that would help Ethan, so they had decided on a little trip. Everyone was gathering to see them off around noon from the shop.

"Well, we'll - get there a little early and maybe - mention it, and they can think about it on their trip. Maybe Wesley will have some ideas."

"Yeah. Maybe." Spike sighed and scrubbed his hands back through his hair - looked at them both and the link was thick with anger and agitation. Spike - hated being vulnerable. Hated doing this to his family.

_*You're not **doing** anything to us, Spike, we're fine - it's **fine**.*_

_*I can't protect you if I'm going round the bend now can I? Can't do a damn thing if I'm - if I'm off in the damn corner or -*_ A flurry of images - Dru at her absolute worst, when it took the combined efforts of Darla and Angelus to hold her down so Spike could force laudanum down her throat. Tara, mindlessly rocking and crying, yelling at Willow and hiding from all of them those awful weeks when she'd lost her mind to Glory.

"It's not like that, Spike! God, it's - you're not _crazy_ , you're not gonna _go_ crazy, you just - there's some damage, you know? That's _all_. And we can fix it. It's just - aftermath. " Xander pulled him close again, wanting to protect him from his fear - wanting to _fix it_ , and Spike laughed shortly, snuggling close - pulling Oz into the embrace and just leaning there with them, breathing in long breaths, calming himself.

_*Family. We're here, all of us... Safe now. Got to - figure this out and then we'll be fine... Fuckin' Hellmouth -*_

_*I know, love, I know - I talked to Manny. He's talking to his son - Seattle could be sooner than we think.*_

_*Lots of woods up there,*_ Oz thought, and there was something there - something to do with Derio, and running under the moon, under a thick canopy of leaves and stars and Xander jerked away a little, staring at Oz.

"Oz? Jesus, are you - is he...?"

"He wants to be the wolf too, love?" Spike breathed, _*surprise awe love you love you*_ in the link, and Oz ducked his head - looked back up at them, smiling a little.

"He talks about it. He...says he doesn't feel like it would...hurt him. He says...I dunno. We talk about it."

"God, Oz, that's.... Is it - do you want to?" 

Oz shrugged, _*pack love you safe forever*_ "I don't - know. I could, if he really wanted me to. I just - have to know that he _does...._ " Spike leaned over and kissed him, soft and sweet, and Oz sighed and leaned into him - into Xander. He smelled of incense and lemon and blood, just faintly - smelled of sweat and earth and magic and Xander had to kiss him too, smiling.

"Whatever you decide, whatever you want - just...ask, just - you know -" _*Love you **love** you, family always always.*_

"I know," Oz said, and they stayed like that for a minute or so, until Spike shivered all over and Xander stifled a yawn.

"Time for bed then, my loves. Nearly dawn," Spike murmured, and he rose fluidly, pulling the others up, and they made their way upstairs. As they came to the head of the steps Tara poked her head out of the bedroom, looking muzzily at them. She was soft greens and browns and golds, sparks like fireflies all around her, a shadowy figure of a woman inside and behind her that was, Xander thought, her mother. Or the memory of her mother, that guided and helped her, and kept her safe. Tara's own soul always looked - serene. 

"All right?" she whispered, and Oz touched her cheek, going on to his own room.

"We're fine. Tell you in the morning," he said, and she nodded. She looked over at Spike and Xander, head a little to one side.

"Fine. Swear it, Glinda. Go on back to bed?"

"Okay. Tomorrow, boys," she said, best mother-hen voice and they all chuckled softly. Oz opened his door and slipped inside, a sleepy query from Derio audible to all, and Tara ducked back, shutting her own door. Xander pulled Spike closer to him, wanting Spike to lean on him, wanting to do _something_....

"Love you, Xander."

"Love you too," Xander whispered, and they shed robes and climbed into bed. Spike curled himself around Xander, holding him tight enough to almost hurt, face in Xander's neck and breathing him in, tasting him with tiny, damp kisses to his neck - to the scar.

"Love - want you in me, Xander, want you to...fuck me and show me...us, show me...." _*My soul, show me what I am, make me real.*_

"You're real, love, you're so real and you're here and you're -" _*Safe and mine, mine always, my vampire, love you forever, love you.*_ Xander turned so he was on top, covering Spike, kissing him and touching him, making him _feel_ every part of his body, making him know he was there and it was all real. The slow slide of his body into Spike's was shivery delight, and Xander moved with deliberation, making all his moves at half-speed, making it _last_. The _seeing_ made a glow of gold and crimson and pale topaz all around them - made Spike into some sort of ethereal creature - angel, demon, it didn't matter - he was beautiful, he was shimmering with light and with shadow, with his love and his happiness and Xander fed it through the link, opened wide to it and made Spike _see_ and never once let his gaze leave Spike's. They'd both have bruises in the morning, from being held so tightly, but they didn't care - welcomed the pain as another part of reality - welcomed the bruises as proof. So they wouldn't forget.

 

They got to the shop around eleven, Xander yawning every other minute, Oz looking dazed. The spill-over in the link had kept him and Derio up as well, although Xander didn't think the werewolf minded too much. Spike was already at the shop, having gone via Sunnydale Below, and Derio leaned sleepily on Oz's shoulder, his fiddle-case in one hand, his other twined with Oz's.

_*Another wolf in the family. That would be - would Derio be part of the link, then? Would it work that way?*_

_*Dunno, love. Have to think about that. Oh, buggering hell!*_

_*What is it?*_

_*Fucking bastards!*_

_*Spike?*_ Xander made a turn and pulled into a parking lot. He was going to run into the grocery store and get some sort of breakfast-type things. Pastries. Fruit. Juice. Tara had had an early class and had left twenty dollars and a note - _"Nothing left for breakfast here - we need to go shopping! Maybe bring some stuff by the Magic Box - we can have a little brunch? No Pop-Tarts for me, please!"_

Xander would do his best to accommodate the health-minded witch but _this_ grocery made its own éclairs and tarts and he wasn't going have a melon-cup for _his_ breakfast.

 _*Watcher and the other Watcher and the mage went for coffee and something - some 'essential travel' item.*_ Spike's mental tone took on a pompous sort of 'Giles' sound, and Xander sniggered to himself, avoiding the narrow-eyed glance the stock-boy was giving him.

_*So? You can snoop around in Giles' office and stuff.*_

_*They left Connor here! The bastards.*_ An image of the sleeping baby made Xander laugh again, and he hastily stifled it.

_*He's asleep! You'll be fine. He's your - nephew, after all. Or is he your half-brother? What **is** he?*_

_*He's the unluckiest bloody kid in the universe. I don't know what he is. He'd better **stay** asleep,*_ Spike grumbled, and Xander sent him a mental pet, stepping up to the counter in his turn at the bakery.

Halfway to the shop and Xander and Oz both stiffened in startlement at a blast of irritation and - could it be fear? - through the link.

*Spike! Fuck's sake -!*

_*Sodding **hell** , Xander, I dropped something an' he woke up! He's screaming like a banshee! Get here quick!*_

_*I'll be there in - ten minutes, love -*_ Xander couldn't suppress the amusement in this thoughts - couldn't stop the laughter as Oz relayed the problem to Derio, and the irritation from Spike jumped up a notch.

_*Ten minutes! Christ -*_

_*Pick him up and rock him,*_ Oz thought, and the thought that came back was incendiary. Abruptly, Spike shut the link down.

"Oh crap. Well - he'll be all right. And if Conner really does cry for ten minutes, it won't hurt him." Oz just smiled, thinking of his own nephew and the babysitting he'd done once, long ago. The nephew who'd bit him and turned him into a werewolf. There was a moment's uneasy speculation.

"Hey, Xander, if you go left here and then - well, go _faster_ , we'll get there a little quicker."

"Right," Xander said. Derio fumbled his seat-belt on and Oz had a death-grip on the breakfast. When they screeched to a stop outside the Magic Box, Giles, Ethan and Wesley were all about a half-block away, walking leisurely towards the shop, Giles with a holder full of cups in his hands. They saw Xander, Oz and Derio piling out of the truck and immediately started walking fast - Wesley actually breaking into a trot.

"What is it? Did Spike -"

"Spike didn't do anything. It's just - Connor was crying and -"

 _*You lot shut it. He's quiet now and if you wake him I won't be best pleased,*_ Spike said, the link suddenly there again, and Xander held up a hand.

"Wait - it's okay. Spike said to be quiet."

"I really do wish you'd tell me more about this link, Xander -" Wesley started, and Xander grinned at Oz and they all filed into the shop. Spike was sitting on the loft stairs, his legs together and Connor lying on his back along Spike's thighs, his head at Spike's knees. The vampire was slowly swinging his legs back and forth, one hand splayed carefully on the baby's belly, the other holding a book. He was reading, in a soft and steady, rumbling voice, and Connor was making small, sleepy noises like a drowsy kitten.

 _"The boy's eyes grew bright. "Bull Run, ask him Bull Run…."_  
_"I was there." Softly._  
_"What about Shiloh?"_  
_"There's never been a year in my life I haven't thought, what a lovely name and what a shame to see it only on battle records."_  
_"Shiloh, then. Fort Sumter?"_  
_"I saw the first puffs of powder smoke." A dreaming voice. "So many things come back, oh, so many things. I remember songs. 'All's quiet along the Potomac tonight, where the soldiers lie peacefully dreaming; their tents in the rays of the clear autumn moon, or the light of the watchfires, are gleaming.' Remember, remember…."_ Spike's eyes came up from the page to Xander's, storm-murk blue, the link troubled but quiet.

"Oh, well - that's -" Wesley sank down onto a chair by the round table, his eyes on Connor.

"That's bloody typical, reading to a child about battles..." Giles grumbled, but he moved almost silently over to the counter, putting the tray of coffee-cups down.

Ethan made a face after him, smiling. "Don't pretend you didn't thrill to the gore of Charlemagne and King Arthur yourself, Ripper," he chuckled, and Giles shot him an amused glance, lifting cup-lids to check what was inside.

"Why can't they mark these things?" he muttered, and Ethan went to help.

"Do you think I can pick him up?" Oz asked, and Spike looked down at the baby, tipping his head to one side a little.

"Probably. Give it a go, then." He shut the book - something he'd been reading on and off - and tucked it into a duster pocket while Oz crossed to him and set the bags of breakfast food down - carefully scooped Connor up. The baby yawned hugely, his eyes drifting shut, and Oz sat down carefully next to Wesley. Derio moved next to him, leaning on the table and smiling down at the pudgy face.

"How'd you like playing daddy?" Xander asked, sitting down in front of Spike and leaning back. Spike's thighs fell open and he leaned forward, his forearms loosely crossed over Xander's collarbones.

"I'll play daddy with _you_ , love," Spike said, nibbling at Xander's jaw, sending something truly pornographic through the link and Xander flushed, hardening in his jeans and trying not to just turn around and jump Spike right there.

" _Fuck_. Spike, you...are so _evil_ ," he whispered, and Spike kissed him, slow and thorough. It did _not_ help.

They eventually moved to the training room, where Xander and Derio and Ethan spread out breakfast food and coffee on an old library table and started eating. Xander mostly éclairs, Derio mostly fruit, and Spike making leering suggestions about both. Wesley had Connor in his car-seat and was idly rocking it with his foot, sipping coffee and trying not to smear powdered sugar on a copy of some book or other that Giles was showing him. The door-bell jangled and Giles glanced up.

"That would be Buffy, I suppose," he said, and jerked in startlement when Spike leapt to his feet, game face and growling.

"No, it's bloody well not."

"Angel?" Wesley said, spitting sugar. " _Gunn?_ "

"Wesley, you are in _so_ much trouble," Cordelia said, somewhere behind the two hulking men in the doorway. Xander couldn't help it, he laughed.

"Well, this is in _no_ way...awkward," Wesley said, getting to his feet and looking around helplessly for somewhere to put his coffee and cake. 

"Wesley -" The man who was apparently Gunn, a tall, broad black man with a shaven head, stalked across the room, frowning. Straight for Wesley. 

"Gunn, we -"

"He's been working up a head of steam the whole trip," Cordelia said, coming around Angel finally. A bulging baby bag hung from her shoulder.

"But - we worked all this out on the phone...." Wesley said, eyeing Gunn with misgiving and Xander could have sworn this Gunn _growled_.

"He decided to be pissed instead," Angel said. He looked uneasily at Spike and then at Gunn, who was a foot from Wesley. Then he looked at Connor and his whole face lit up in a smile, and he went forward, kneeling down beside the car seat. Xander blinked, amazed at what the smile did to Angel.

 _*Never saw **that** before.*_ Spike let the demon go and leaned back on the exercise horse, watching Wesley and Gunn.

"Don't _ever_ do _anything_ like this again," Gunn barked, and then he grabbed Wesley and pulled him into a kiss that was broken only by Dawn squealing from the back doorway.

"Oh my _God!_ "

"Old home week," Cordelia said, smiling.

"Bit! You're supposed to be in school!"

"Teacher's day, Spike, we got off early. Buffy and Willow are gonna be here in about ten minutes. Who is _that?_ "

Xander thought fast. "Wes? Uh - Wes - Gunn? Hey?" Gunn pulled away from Wes long enough to whip his head around and glare at Xander and the hyena growled. "Hey! Uh - I'm Xander. Right over there - see that? Stairway to the roof. Nice and private. Wanna - show Wes the roof?" Gunn opened his mouth - looked at the sea of faces that were staring at him. Looked at Dawn and winced.

"Right. Roof. Let's go." He wheeled Wesley around and frog-marched him to the door and through it, but Xander saw the smile on Wesley's sugar-flecked mouth.

"Okay, and - Connor's sleeping so maybe the reunion should be up front?" Xander made a shooing motion at Dawn and she bounced over to Cordelia.

"My God, I love your hair! Are those _Prada?_ Tell me all about L.A.!" Oz was gathering food, and Derio was, and Giles, and they all slipped away to the front of the room as Angel leaned over Connor's car seat and gently lifted his son out.

"Little man," he crooned, cradling the sleeping baby close, and Xander put his hand over Spike's mouth and dragged him to the basement steps.

"We're just gonna go down here for - a few minutes -" Spike grabbed his arm and _yanked_ and Xander just managed to slam the door shut behind them.

 

"We should go up," Xander murmured, kissing Spike's neck, licking away the trace of blood there.

"Mmmmm..." Spike's fangs were still in Xander's throat - he was still sipping minuscule amounts of blood from him and Xander shivered and sighed, leaning into Spike's chest, clenching his body around Spike's cock.

 _*Tara's here,*_ from Oz, amusement and fondness, and Xander sighed.

"They'll wanna go, love.

 _*Let them go. Don't care. They can all bloody go,*_ Spike thrust up ever so slightly, holding Xander down, and Xander shifted, gasping.

"Love, please - I need -"

"'Course you do, love. Like you in my lap like this…." Spike whispered, going back to his leisurely sucking, the link dark and throbbing with images.

_*That is so wrong, Spike. Daddy? Just wrong.*_

_*Tell your cock that,*_ Spike thought, amused and breathless and starting to pant, just a little, and Xander let his head fall forward onto Spike's neck - let the link and the dual physical sensations wash over him - fill him - make him moan and shiver. Spike flexed upward; harder, faster, and a moment later he was trembling, his jaws locked down hard on Xander's throat, his body arching into orgasm. _*Love you love you, fucking God, that's lovely.*_

"Spike," Xander whispered, breathless, and Spike's fingers eased up from their pinching grasp on Xander's cock. A moment later Xander was lying over a pile of boxes and Spike's mouth was on him, sucking hard, and he bit the fingers that Spike pushed into his mouth, crying out softly as Spike swallowed him down. "F-fuck -" Xander gasped, and Spike leaned over him and kissed him, salt and blood and musk.

"Nice and neat, that way," Spike said, grinning, and he stood up, stretching hard.

"Not _that_ neat. I think I left a roll of paper towels down here -" Xander sat up slowly as Spike rooted around, finally tossing him a roll of towels and then his jeans. 

"Best get dressed, love - want to say goodbye, don't you?"

"Oh, fuck off," Xander had to grin as he pulled his underwear and jeans on - as they both found their shirts and stamped their boots on. They clattered up the stairs and at the top Spike grabbed Xander around the waist and gave him one last, spine-melting kiss.

_*Love you always, mine always always.*_

_*Always yours, love you….*_

_*Sodding Angelus*_

"Ah - he's all wrapped up in Connor, you know? Don't worry about him," Xander whispered, and opened the door.

Everyone was there; Tara was alternating finishing off the last of the strawberries and talking softly to Willow, who looked radiantly happy. Giles was patting his pockets, looking distracted, and Ethan was watching with amusement as Dawn went through a small photo-album with Cordelia. Buffy was sitting next to Angel, talking quietly while Angel rocked the baby. It had taken longer than anyone could have guessed to get rid of Holtz, and now Buffy and Angel were making new plans for a visit - sometime after Anya's wedding, probably.

"Xander! These pictures are so cute! Connor looks like Superman in this one 'cause Angel's invisible -" Dawn waved the album and Xander came over to the girls, watching out of the corner of his eye as Spike stalked around the edges of the room and settled half-way up the loft stairs, searching for his cigarettes.

"Here, let me look. You - you look great, Cordy," Xander said, glancing at the pictures. Cordelia _did_ look good, and she projected an air of confidence - of businesslike intelligence - that had been missing from the more brittle and secretly insecure 'Queen C.'

"Thanks, Xander. So - you and Spike. I just had to see it to believe it."

"Yeah. It's...the best thing that ever happened to me, Cordy. It's - been amazing."

Cordelia looked at him, her head a little to one side, and then she smiled that million-dollar smile. "Yeah. I can tell. You look great. Even with the long hair, you look just...great." Xander smiled back - looked down at another picture of Connor, nodding his head to Dawn's excited chatter.

"Well - we'll be back some time on Monday, Tara. I trust you and Willow and - and Dawn will keep things going smoothly?"

"Don't worry Giles - we'll be fine!" Willow said, patting Tara's hand gently, and Tara smiled at her.

"I have the number for the Hyperion, Giles, but we won't need anything," Tara said. Anya and Drake were at some sort of weekend retreat, a 'relationship building' thing that Anya had read about. Something she thought they should do before the wedding. Drake had confided to Spike and Xander during a patrol that he was going because the place was a spa and he could lie in hot mud or bubbling springs all weekend and have sex, because Anya was sure that sex in new places was the way to marital bliss.

"Works for me," Drake had said happily, tweezering a strand of demon gut off of Spike's shoulder and studying it intently under his flashlight beam. 

"Right, so - we're off, then. Don't hesitate to call if you -"

"Leave it, Ripper. They'll be fine," Ethan laughed, tugging Giles' arm and Giles smiled sheepishly, gathering up a jacket from the counter.

A few minutes slow exodus and then the cars were driving away; Giles and Ethan in the convertible, Angel's crew in an SUV whose windows were so darkly tinted Xander was surprised it was legal. A brief honk of the SUV's horn and they were gone. Everyone but Spike stood on the sidewalk just outside the shop.

"Well - that's that, then," Buffy said, looking around with a bit of a deflated air. "I guess I'm gonna go home. Stuff to do like - laundry, and dishes…." Buffy looked bummed out and Tara gave her a brief hug.

"Willow and Dawn are having a movie night tonight, why not meet me and we'll have dinner?"

"Hey! That'd be great. Thanks, Tara!" Buffy grinned and then spun on one foot to stare at Dawn.  
" _You_. Be good. Help them, don't break anything, don't mouth off to any customers, and don't read the books!" 

Dawn rolled her eyes. "Buffy - I'm almost _sixteen_. I think I'll be safe at the _Magic Box_ with Tara and Willow. Geez." Dawn flounced back inside, crossing over to Spike. He was still sprawled on the steps and he leaned forward, saying something to her.

"I'll be in around four, okay?" Oz said, and Tara nodded as he and Derio wandered off down the street. Derio was trying some solo things, and he'd go play in the park, just practicing and fooling around, sometimes with Oz playing his guitar. They'd made thirty-seven dollars one day last week, totally unintentionally.

Xander followed the girls back into the shop and Spike shot him a leering grin. "I think we'll just go home. I've got a piece I'm working on -" Xander said, and Tara nodded and smiled, reaching for the phone that was already ringing. 

_*Woodcarving? Can think of a better way to spend a day off, love,*_ Spike thought, easing down off the stairs and gliding towards him.

_*Had some other kind of...artwork in mind. That whole Daddy thing - that was wrong. And bad. And you need punished for making me think it.*_

_*And for making you get off to it,*_ Spike added, getting around behind him and sliding his hands over Xander's belly.

_*That too. So - get home, get naked, get out - oh - some rope and….*_

_*And let the artist work,*_ Spike sighed happily, nibbling on the claim scar, and then he was gone, down the stairs and out into Sunnydale Below. Xander waved distractedly at the girls and headed for his truck, hoping he could concentrate well enough to stop at _every_ stop sign.

 

"Xander? Xander - Oz - are you guys home?" Xander jerked awake, lifting his head with a snap from Spike's chest. Spike was scrambling off the bed, growling, and Xander followed him, stumbling over a coil of discarded rope. "Hey! I need help!" It was Buffy and Xander grabbed his robe, yanking it on. Spike didn't bother - was already out the bedroom door and pounding down the stairs.

"Slayer - what the hell?"

"It's Dawn and Willow - they should have been home ages ago but they're _not_ and I can't find them and -"

"What in hell is the Bit doing out with -"

"Spike! Don't." Xander caught himself on the newel post, staring at Buffy who was oblivious to the naked vampire not three feet from her. A vampire criss-crossed with mostly-healed cuts. "Buffy - just, go slow."

Buffy took a deep breath - nodded, shutting her eyes for a moment. "Okay. Dawn and Willow were going to a movie tonight. And they left around six. And - the movie was supposed to be over right around nine. But they're not home. It's almost one, and they're not home, and nobody's called! Tara and I - she went to Giles' place, she has a spare key. We saw Oz and Derio, out at - at the Bronze and I asked them to look. I think -" Buffy stopped, biting her lip.

"What, Buff?"

"That Amy? The rat? She was in the house today. I had to run out and get some laundry soap and when I got back she was - snooping around. Trying to find spell components, or that's what she told me. She said - she and Willow had been going to this guy, called Rack? Spike - do you know him?"

"Yeah. He - buys and sells magic. You can't get addicted to magic but you can get addicted to what he does. He - gives you a rush and he takes some of your energy."

_*God - why would Willow **do** that?*_

_*She thinks it's making her stronger. It's just - opening her up to the dark side of things.*_ Spike turned and put his fist through the wall, and then he looked at Buffy, game-face. "If Red took Dawn there - I'll kill her, Slayer." He spun on his heel and pelted upstairs, and Xander held out a hand, stopping Buffy from whatever she was going to say.

"I know. Don't. Let me get dressed and we'll go. Do you know where this Rack - _is?_ "

"No - Amy said his place is hidden - it moves around. He gives you a key. Willow had the key they were using."

"Fuck." Xander turned and ran as well, and they were dressed and gone in minutes.

 

"It could be any bloody where, that's the _point_ ," Spike snapped, and Buffy opened her mouth to say something back and then stopped. 

"God, just - is there anything? Anything at all?" 

"No," Spike said shortly, and then relented, seeing Buffy's eyes widen and then sparkle, filling with tears. "Listen - Oz says nothing - he's coming back up, gonna try near the docks. Xander says -"

_*Nothing. There's nothing. Is there anybody we could ask?*_

_*That Amy bint might talk if I put the screws to her,*_ Spike thought, and he felt the hesitation in the link - felt Xander weighing that option, and Oz.

 _*Only if we have to. I'm gonna come back around to where you are,*_ Xander thought, and Spike nodded absently.

"Xander's coming back this way. Let's -" They both stopped, listening, as not-too-distant car-tires squealed sharply, someone braking or turning too fast. A moment later there was a scream.

"Dawn!" Buffy took off running and Spike loped after her, game-face, scenting the wind.

 _*Xander, she's here! We're -going towards that bridge -*_ Spike sent the image to Xander and Oz - scented magic on the night air, and blood, and demon. Something that should _not_ be in Sunnydale, despite the presence of the Hellmouth.

_*Dawn's blood, fucking **hell**!*_

_*Just find her! I'm coming -*_

_*Coming,*_ from Oz, getting stronger. And Spike ran.

 

Dawn was crawling, screaming, kicking ineffectually at the demon that was crouching over her, grinning. Buffy didn't hesitate - she plowed into it, rolling with it over and over and Spike swooped down on Dawn, gathering her up out of the dirt.

"Dawnie - Niblet, it's all right, I'm here -" Dawn whimpered, flinching, and Spike pulled back a little, looking at her. There were claw marks over her cheek - blood down her face from a gash on her forehead. And she was holding her left arm awkwardly. "What hurts, love? Tell me what hurts."

"Spike! S-spike...God...m-my head hurts and my - my arm, I can't m-move my fingers -" 

Spike shushed her, pulling her close. "Just let me look, poppet, shhh...." He ghosted his fingers over her forearm, feeling the muscles as tight as wire, vamping for a moment to use every sense he had. "Think it's broken, love. Now you come here -" Spike led her over to a haphazard pile of boxes and broken pallets and made her sit. "You rest here a minute, I'm gonna check on big sis, all right? Xander and the wolf are coming, they're nearly here, all right?"

"Oh-ohkay Spike, okay," Dawn whispered, and she was white as paper, shivering.

_*Damnit, she's going into shock, Xander!*_

_*Almost there, hang on -*_

Spike slipped off his duster and snugged it around Dawn's trembling shoulders and glanced over at the Slayer, who was advancing on the demon. The demon wailed - choked - went up in a blast of smoke and sparks and Spike growled. "Witch," he hissed, spotting Willow leaning against a pillar, blood on her face, residual magic crackling over her hands. He pounced, flattening her to the pillar, threading his fingers through her hair and jerking her head around so she could see Dawn. "Slayer! See to your sister, she's hurt," he barked, and Buffy hesitated for a moment and then went to Dawn.

Willow bucked under him, panting. "Spike - let me g-go, leave me -"

"Do you _see_ what you did? She's _hurt_ , witch! She's _broken_ and she's bleeding and it's because of _you_. It's because of your fucking _magic_. Because you're too fucking weak to say _no_. You took her to Rack." Willow gasped, and Spike let his fangs trail over her throat - let his face press into the side of hers, so she'd _know_. _*Know how she's gonna die. Her fucking blood might poison me or it might get me off but I'm gonna **taste** it -*_

"Spike! Don't!" Xander was _there_ , suddenly, the truck crooked in the street and the door hanging open and Spike wasn't even sure when he'd pulled up. He could taste blood in his mouth and he realized he'd scraped Willow's neck - cut it just a little with a fang. Her blood was hot and alive and rank with blackness and twisted desire and Spike _wanted_ it.

"Dawn's hurt, Xander! She needs the hospital and _this_ -" Spike shook Willow like a rag-doll and she wailed, flailing. "This needs dealt with."

"Spike - you're not gonna kill her. C'mon - let's take Dawn to the hospital - she's what counts right now. Spike?" Xander was walking to him, his hand out, and Spike felt, for just one moment, that it didn't _matter_. That he would take the witch's blood and let it go through him like toxic fire. That he would _make_ Xander not care, somehow - that he would gather his family and leave this place and never once look back. He could see it unfold in his mind, every step.

_*Spike, please don't. Please, please don't.*_

"Xander? Did you see what - she did?" That disconnected feeling was back - that sense of _things_ in the darkness, and abruptly Spike let Willow go - shoved her violently away and in two strides was on Xander, pulling him close, wrapping his arms around heat and solidity and _*Love you love you - come on, let's take care of Dawn, let's get her to the hospital-*_

_*Won't hurt you, pet, won't, I won't -*_

"I know you won't, love," Xander whispered, urging him to walk, and they went over to Dawn and Buffy. Behind them, Willow choked, crying, and Spike pushed the demon away, not wanting to scare Dawn any more.

"I think - she has a broken arm, she needs to go to the Emergency Room. Xander, can you -"

"Yeah Buffy, we'll take you. Oz and Derio are just -" Xander waved a hand and Spike listened, hearing Oz's van less than a block away. "They can take Willow home, and get Tara." Acknowledgment of that in the link from Oz - anger and sorrow and disgust - left-over fear.

"C'mon, Niblet, let's get you up," Spike said, wearily disengaging from Xander and holding out his hand - lifting Dawn to her feet. She clutched the edge of his duster in her hand, and her eyes looked bruised and sunken - her teeth were chattering. They turned to walk to Xander's truck and Willow was there, crying so hard she was coughing, holding her side.

"Dawn! Dawnie, please - I'm so sorry, I'm so, so sorry!"

"Too late for that, witch," Spike hissed, and the urge to just end it - end her and end her threat was so strong Xander grabbed his arm - squeezed as hard as he could.

"Get Dawn in the truck. There's Oz. _Go_ , Spike! Please, love -" Spike blinked and looked at Xander, and the link was thick with rage and sorrow and bewilderment - with a hurt so vast his own eyes prickled for a moment.

 _*Her tally is so high she can only pay in blood, pet - she can only pay in fuckin' blood.*_ He put his arm around Dawn and walked her to the truck - got her in and got the seatbelt on her, and a moment later Buffy was sliding in from the other side, a smear of dirt and tears on her cheek. Willow was climbing shakily into the van, and Oz was saying something to Xander, and Spike...was tired. Tired and heartsick and _done_ with it all.

_*Meet you at the hospital, love. Get her there fast.*_

_*Spike? Wait - please don't -*_

_*Have to, love - have to.*_ Spike let the demon out, scenting blood and rage and tears, and he turned and ran, _hunting_ in the purest form of the word. Looking for blood to spill because his anger and his sorrow were too strong to contain - too much - and if he couldn't be the _demon_ for at least a little while he felt that he would fly into pieces. _*Out of control - you're out of control.*_

 _* **Need** it. Won't stop.*_ The demon wouldn't take anymore restraint and Spike didn't care what he killed tonight. He shut the link down hard, knowing he couldn't let Xander feel what he was going to do. _*Keep away from them - keep away from the family - get this **out** and then....*_ The demon roared, and Spike _ran_.

 

It was nearly dawn when he got home - near enough that he jogged the last few blocks, eyes nervously on the horizon. And Xander and Oz in the link, angry at him. He eased into the house, knowing Tara was asleep upstairs, and Derio was, and Xander and Oz were both in the kitchen, drinking hot tea and being...angry. His duster was lying across the couch, and he caught a faint whiff of Dawn's blood still on it. The radio was playing softly, and he just leaned in the kitchen doorway, watching them.

_”You must remember this, a kiss is still a kiss_  
_A sigh is just a sigh...The fundamental things apply_  
_As time goes by…."_

Louis' voice, strong and rasping and warm, and Spike slid down the jamb, letting his legs just go. "Sorry," he whispered, and there was nothing - just silence. And then Xander was getting up and coming over to him - was sitting down and wrestling him half onto his lap. And Oz was there, getting between him and the wall, leaning heavily on him and making that wolf-noise, that _hmmph_ down in his chest that mean amusement or irritation. That meant -

"Don't do that. Don't run away. Don't - push me out, love. Don't push _us_ out. It doesn't work that way," Xander said, his voice fierce and hoarse and Spike just burrowed into him - hid his face in the fleecy softness of a well-washed flannel shirt. Oz's hand was on his belly and he pulled it up - got one of Xander's hands and just held them, all together.

_*Was gonna hurt you - was gonna **kill** her...everything we wanted to do would have hurt you and we...had to get out of there.*_

"I know. But you don't _do_ that. You wouldn't ever hurt me, love." Xander's voice held conviction - the _link_ did, and Spike shuddered.

_*Don't know that.*_

"He does. _I_ do. You can't hide your heart from us, Spike." Oz laid his cheek on Spike's bowed neck and sighed. "You think you're the only one that gets scared, and mad and - a little crazy? We all were, tonight."

 _*Not the same, not the same,*_ Spike thought frantically, the disconnected feelings, the _forgetting_ all there in the link.

"Still you. Still _Spike_. Love - just don't run away. _Trust_ us. We can fix anything if you trust us." _*Please, love? Please say you do...so fuckin' scared....*_ He _had_ been scared, and Oz had been; _scared_ under the anger, and lost - adrift without him.

_*We're three. A triangle, a tripod. Take out one side and it all falls apart, Spike. You can't do that to us. Trust us.*_

_*Wolf, Xander, love...sorry...so sorry...I do. I trust you. Love you love you love you....*_ despairingly, and Xander hugged him _hard_ \- Oz did.

_* **My** Spike. My own, my love. Always, always.*_

_Pack, mine, family, **love** you, always….*_

_"It's still the same old story, a fight for love and glory,_  
_A case of do or die.... The world will always welcome lovers_  
_As time goes by…."_

 

_________________________  
The text quoted is from _Dandelion Wine_ \- Ray Bradbury  
_As Time Goes By_ \- Louis Armstrong


	13. Fallout

"What could possibly be taking them so long?" Anya paced back and forth in front of the Magic Box counter, looking anxiously towards the training room door. Giles, who was leafing through a large supplies catalogue, glanced up at her.

"It hasn't been that long, has it? Oh! Eye of Lepus! You told me they didn't sell this!"

"It's rabbits' eyes, Giles! Do you really think I'm going to have _those_ in the shop? Have them - _looking_ at me, every day? Not on your Nellie, buster." Giles shot Anya an annoyed look and folded the corner of the catalogue down. Beside him, Ethan distractedly lifted a cup of tea and sipped at it, grimacing at the heat. He was reading a particularly old-looking book and little flakes of the binding came off on the counter-top every time he touched it.

Xander grinned, leaning back against Spike. They were waiting for the girls to come out and model the bridesmaid's dresses. They'd been back and forth with alterations and now, two days before the wedding, they were ready.

"Oh, for hell's sake!" Anya muttered.

Oz was re-arranging some stock and he patted her arm as he walked by. "Just relax, Anya. They haven't ever been bridesmaids before - they're excited." Xander could hear Spike making a groaning sort of noise down in his chest and Oz shot him a _look_.

_*You don't know what she's like when she's nervous. Anything to calm her down.*_

_*Let's call Drake and tell him she needs an emergency shag, then,*_ Spike thought, and Xander giggled.

_*He'd do it, too! At least Anya got somebody as - enthusiastic - about sex as she is.*_

_*You're enthusiastic, pet.*_ Spike combed his fingers gently through Xander's hair and Xander sighed happily.

_*Sure. But at least I don't talk about it - to everyone - all the time.*_

_*You could if you wanted.*_

_*No! Some stuff is just for me,*_ Xander thought, and he squeezed Spike's calf. Spike _hmmm_ 'd to himself, pleased.

"Finally!" Anya exclaimed as the training-room door creaked open and the girls filed out, rustling and….

 _*Glowing? Are they glowing?*_ Xander stared, feeling his mouth drop open.

 _*My eyes!*_ Oz ducked behind a bookshelf and Xander and Spike could both hear him snorting quietly. Spike was shaking with silent, suppressed laughter. Silent because the look on Dawn's face threatened instant death. 

"Oh!" Anya stood in an attitude of utter shock, her hands over her mouth.

Giles glanced up at the sound - glanced at the girls - and then _stared_. "Oh dear _Lord_ ," he muttered. Ethan's cup clattered loudly into its saucer and he abruptly scooped it up and did a fast march into the office. Suspicious strangling noises began to drift out.

"Look at you!" Anya advanced on the girls, her face slack with disbelief. "You. Look. _Beautiful!_ Absolutely beautiful! Don't they look incredible?" She turned to Xander and Spike, and Xander sat up straight, closing his mouth.

"Yeah, don't we look _beautiful_ ," Dawn said, glaring, and Xander grinned at her.

"Oh, yeah, you guys look - totally - amazing. I mean - wow! I would never have - would never have -"

"Never have imagined how much chartreuse does for your complexion, Slayer," Spike said, his voice completely serious and now it was _Buffy's_ turn to glare.

Giles made a noise like a suppressed sneeze and dropped his catalogue. "I think I'd better check on Ethan," he muttered, and bolted for the office as well.

"Spike! They're not chartreuse, they're -" Anya seems to be groping for the right word and Oz finally stumbled out from behind the bookshelf, his eyes suspiciously wet.

"They're a kind of peacock color," he said, and Anya shook her head.

"No, no - the dressmaker said - emerald? Jade? Anyway, _not_ chartreuse. And they're just perfect! Totally perfect!" She went up to the girls and pulled them into a sort of five-way hug. The layers of taffeta ruffles rustled alarmingly. Dawn made a gruesome face over Anya's shoulder and Spike snorted out loud.

_*What was demon-girl thinking?*_

_*I kinda doubt she **was** thinking. She's been -*_

_*A raging lunatic,*_ Oz thought, coming over and sitting down next to Xander. Xander scooted over a little and they both leaned back on Spike's legs. _*She's been asking me about seating charts and a set list for days - she keeps changing her mind! And Drake just nods and says 'whatever you want, honey'.*_ Oz closed his eyes and sighed as Spike's fingers rubbed his neck and petted through his hair.

_*Poor wolf. Better you than me.*_

_*Jerk.*_ Xander and Spike watched as Anya made the girls twirl around and around - as she quizzed them about their hair and makeup and reminded them that Halfrek - her demon friend - would be her maid of honor.

"So - Xander - you have a suit, right?" Anya asked, turning around suddenly and pinning Xander with a steely look. The girls fled back to the training room to change and Xander shook his head.

"Suit? Uh - no? I don't need a suit; I'm not _in_ the wedding, Anya."

"Well, no, but you're going to _be_ there and you can't wear your usual." She gave his work-uniform - dirty jeans, t-shirt, ragged flannel - a scornful once-over.

"I won't wear work-clothes to your wedding, Anya, I promise," Xander smiled at her and she just shook her head, stomping off into the training room, muttering.

"Told me I couldn't wear my coat," Spike said, sounding amused, and Xander tipped his head back to look at him.

"Really?"

"She told _me_ I had to dye my hair in a complementary color," Oz said. Spike was still rubbing his neck and he was limp and relaxed. His hair was currently a strange sort of purplish-red.

"Complementary to what? Those dresses? Nothing complements _those_ tragedies," Spike leaned down and kissed the end of Oz's nose and the werewolf blinked up at him, smiling. He groaned and hauled himself upright.

"Two more hours, then I'm home," he said, and went back to work. 

"Is it safe?" Giles poked his head around the door and he and Ethan eased back over to the counter. "My God. I thought my cousin Taffy's wedding was awful, but at least she only dressed her entourage in sky-blue sailor suits!"

" _Taffy?_ " Xander asked, standing up and pulling Spike up with him. 

"Oh, family nick-name, you know -" Giles waved his hand vaguely and Xander just shook his head.

"Well, we're gonna go patrol, see what there is to kill. With so many of Anya's - family - here, things are a little…."

"Twitchy," Spike finished. Giles opened his mouth to say something but the front bell jangled wildly as someone all but fell through the door. A young man, his clothes dirty and torn, his face bruised and bloodied, staggered inside and nearly fell down the steps.

"Help me! Please, can you help me? They're gonna kill me -"

" _Johnathan?_ " Xander darted forward just in time to catch him as he passed out.

 

" _Nezzla_ demons? You must be mad," Giles muttered, and Johnathan just looked at him. 

"So - tonight's the night, he's gonna go all - Superman and rob this bank?" Buffy was pacing, still in her bridesmaid dress. The others were perched here and there around the room, listening to Johnathan's story. His lip was split, and one eye was swollen shut. The way he was moving, Xander was pretty sure he had some cracked ribs, too. His 'friend' Warren had worked him over.

"Yeah. And those orbs - he's really, really strong now. He - he's just gone crazy - _crazier_. He decided I was a spy for you, you know? 'Cause you had me in your house for those two days…." Johnathan's voice trailed into silence and he sniffed - shifted uncomfortably on his chair. "I thought he was my friend...I thought they both were. But they're - they want to _kill_ you, Buffy." Johnathan cringed a little when he said that, and Dawn glared at him.

"They won't get the chance," Buffy snapped. She looked down at herself. "I'm gonna go change. Dawn, you need to go -"

"To our house," Xander said, and Buffy looked at him, hesitating. Then she nodded and spun around, walking rapidly to the back.

"Let me and the Slayer take him on, love," Spike said, sliding his hand over Xander's belly and pulling him into a close hug. Johnathan stared for a second and then blushed, looking away.

"You think?" Xander asked, and Spike kissed the side of his neck.

"Yeah. You and the wolf keep an eye on the rest of the family, keep 'em safe. No telling what this bastard might do."

"Yeah." Xander sighed - turned his head a little and kissed Spike on the cheek. "Yeah, okay. Willow, you want me to take you home?"

"Uh - no, I promised Anya I'd help her tonight - last minute wedding -things. Rehearsal dinner and all that." Willow didn't look too happy, but Anya smiled at her and hugged her around the shoulders.

"That's right. We have to double-check the seating chart and - oh! - one of Drake's aunts and her kids are going to be at the airport in an hour, we have to go meet them. Come on, Willow - lots to do!" Anya bounced over to the counter for her purse and Willow made a sad face - smiled shyly over at Tara.

"It was good to see you, Tara. I guess I'll - I'll see you at the rehearsal tomorrow?"

"Yeah, I'll see you tomorrow, Willow. It'll b-be fun." Tara smiled softly and Willow beamed - waved at everyone else as Anya grabbed her arm and pulled her out of the shop, chattering about the wedding. Drake's family had been arriving from all over the world for three days. His family, it turned out, was _huge_ , with four brothers, two sisters and innumerable cousins, as well as aunts, uncles, great aunts and uncles, second and third cousins, and two sets of grandparents. It boggled the mind and they'd had to rent out a bigger space for the rehearsal dinner since _everyone_ was going to be there. Anya was past nervous and now moved in a perpetual state of hair-trigger hysteria.

 _*Man, I'll be **so** glad when this wedding is over,*_ Oz thought. He'd borne the brunt of Anya's nerves, being at the shop with her, and it had taxed even _his_ remarkable calm.

 _*Me too, really. Everything seems so...unsettled.*_ Xander leaned back comfortably in Spike's embrace, watching Johnathan sneak glances at them - watching him shrink down on himself a little more. _*Why don't I take him home? Keep an eye on him?*_

 _*Sure. Can't do **you** any harm and I wanna know he's under lock and key. Can just shove him down cellar,*_ Spike thought, and Xander grinned up at him.

"That's not nice, love."

" _Not_ nice, am I? And you love it." Spike vamped - kissed him carefully, just nipping his lip a tiny bit. Xander felt the shudder that went through Spike at the taste of his blood and he closed his eyes.

_*Go get those bastards and come home, love. Need you.*_

_*Need you too. Watch yourself, pet. Don't let Pinky over there do anything stupid.*_

_*Nah - he's too freaked. Think he's got some cracked ribs - if he does anything too stupid I'll just poke him.*_

Buffy came out of the training room pulling on her coat and stopped for a moment to talk to Dawn, who had been sitting with Tara. "Okay - I'm ready to kick some ass. Let's go, Spike."

"See you soon, love," Spike said, giving Xander a fast, final kiss and he and Buffy were gone. Giles was locking up the office and tidying the counter and Ethan wandered over, shrugging on a sweater.

"Would you like us to come over for a while, Xander? Make sure of the wards?"

"Oh, I think they're all right, Ethan. Thanks though. Did Wesley have anything new for you?" Since the whole incident with Connor and their trip to L.A., Wesley had been in contact with Giles and Ethan almost every day with suggestions and tips. So far they'd only made minimal headway.

"No, I'm afraid not. Seems junior hasn't anymore leads than we do. I imagine it's back to the Mother land for us, and soon." Ethan looked - strained - and Xander frowned at him a little.

"Is something - wrong?" he asked quietly.

"Oh, no - no...." Ethan looked over at Tara and Dawn for a moment - flicked a glance at Oz, who was going up to the loft with a book. "I'm just...it's the Hellmouth. It constantly - weakens me. It has its own...influence - its own aura. I’m sure your little kitchen-witch knows all about it." He smiled at Tara, and Xander didn't even take offense for her at the title. Ethan had a very healthy respect for Tara's power and had made it quite clear that she was out of bounds as far as he was concerned.

"Anyway, it makes it - difficult. I think a break from it, and the efforts of this coven - might just make me...more my old self." Ethan grinned then - an expression every bit as wicked and gleeful as anything Spike could produce and Xander felt a tiny shudder go through him. 

"Just keep clear of Spike if you get back to your old self _too_ much. He doesn't have much patience and _your_...aura kinda bugs him."

"Oh I know that, dear boy," Ethan said, chuckling. "Quite frankly, his devotion to you makes _you_ the bigger threat. You must have some powerful enchantment working for you, to have William the Bloody at your beck and call."

"Nothing as mysterious as all that," Xander said slowly, not liking that for some reason.

"Tell me what it was you did - that day here at the shop? You said… _taisbean_. It was...I felt something...very old. Very strong. And not - right."

"What do you mean, not right?" Xander asked. He didn't mind telling the story about Jack, but Ethan was - being a little creepy.

"Oh, just...." Ethan shuddered, his expressive face showing confusion, a little fear, and intense curiosity. "It wasn't your power, per se - it was borrowed, I could tell... But it was you, as well. Oh, I can't explain this!" Ethan raked his hand back through his hair and watched Oz come back down the stairs and go into the training room. Giles followed him, asking about something and Dawn was showing Tara a schoolbook. Johnathan was watching him and Ethan and Xander frowned at him a little. He looked hastily away, feigning interest in Dawn's homework.

"Do you know about - the Sidhe, Ethan?"

"Do I -? Yes, I do."

"Ask Giles, tonight. He'll tell you."

"I will indeed," Ethan said, and suddenly he smiled, and his dark eyes twinkled. "It's all right, dear boy. I'm not trying to discover your secrets. I just - want to _know_. Curiosity killed the cat, they say, and I suppose I've lost three or so lives to it already."

"That's what Willow says, too - she just wants to _know_. But I don't think she has nine lives," Xander said slowly, eyeing Ethan with suspicion.

"Your little Willow...she needs nipped in the bud, and soon. I know what she wants - she wants to _know_ and she wants to _do_. Unfortunately, she doesn't seem to want to _wait_. Not that I did." Ethan sighed, his smile a little rueful, now. "I did some unholy damage to myself when I was younger - to my soul. As did we all. I may never recover from it. She's still untouched, mostly - she's got a chance. I'm no - Pollyanna. But she trifles with things even _I_ never dared touch and - I like living in this world." At Xander's stricken look, Ethan's expression softened, and he reached out hesitantly and patted Xander's shoulder.

"Don't worry. Ripper can fix it, you know - him and his coven. He won't let her fall from grace. He knows how hard it is to climb back up, just as I do." The glitter in Ethan's eyes wasn't tears - it was mirth. He had admitted to incredible, dangerous, _stupid_ things. But he had never regretted _living_ , and he was happy to go through his life like a super-ball, bouncing from here to there at a whim. His time on the Hellmouth - with the Initiative, too - had made him a bit more cautious, but no less alive. Xander admired that in the man even if his love of chaos made Xander wary.

"Yeah - I think she'll be okay...." Xander hesitated, and then he smiled. Ethan, in his own way, was being comforting. "Thanks, Ethan. I guess we'll see you tomorrow."

"Goodnight then," Ethan said, and he looked up as Giles came over.

"Ready to go? Oz is going to close for me. And I'm in the mood for a dinner I don't have to cook - sound good, Ethan?"

"Sounds lovely, Ripper." Ethan grinned that Cheshire-cat grin and Giles grinned back and they went out. Xander wandered over to the girls.

"So - ladies. I do believe there's a pizza calling our names! Care to go home and keep it company?"

"Yes!" Dawn bounced a little and started gathering books, stuffing them in her backpack while Tara did the same at a slightly less manic pace.

"Actually there's some soup Derio and I made in the 'fridge and some bread from the co-op - I think that would taste better than pizza." Dawn and Xander exchanged _looks_ but they knew it was hopeless - Tara had an iron will and she thought that 'the boys' fed Dawn too much junk food. 

"I bow to your superiority, oh magical Witch of the Kitchen," Xander said, laughing and giving Tara a bow and she smiled at him and linked her arm through Dawn's.

"As it should be," she murmured and Dawn whooped laughter.

"See you later, Oz!" Dawn yelled, and Oz popped his head up from behind the counter.

"See you guys." _*Be careful. Call if -*_

 _*I will. Love you.*_ "Come on, Johnathan, we're going!" They went out into the twilight, heading home.

 

"So he just - flew away? With a _jetpack?_ " Xander couldn't help smiling in disbelief and Buffy shook her head, smiling back.

"Yeah. A jetpack. And he left Andrew behind, crying his head off. The cops took him. Warren was pretty freaked out when I - smashed his orbs." Spike laughed and Buffy blushed, flicking some of her punch at him. "Stop that! There's just no _good_ way to say it."

"Got that right," Spike smirked. "But it finished his little power trip." He leaned back in his chair, idly toying with a cigarette, watching with wary eyes the crowd that milled all around. The wedding rehearsal had gone off without a hitch, and so had the dinner after. But Drake's family was not only huge, they _knew_ \- everything. All night various cousins had been coming up, begging Spike to show them his 'real' face and he'd finally snapped and _done_ it, to a round of disconcerting applause. Now he was sulking and letting Xander tell the cousins - who ranged in age from 2 to 19 - to go away. Dawn was in the center of a knot of more cousins, basking in the attention as they asked her question after question about life on the Hellmouth. She was the expert, for once, and loving it. Especially since tall, dark-haired, and attractive seemed to be the norm for Drake's family.

Giles and Ethan were in the center of an equally excited but more subdued group of older aunts, uncles, the grandparents and the parents as they talked about the Watchers' Council and its role in preserving the 'cultural heritage' of non-humans. Giles was hotly defending the killing of demons and Drake's father, grandfather, great-aunt Mabel and assorted older cousins were arguing that it was the same approach used by 'European invaders' the world over to decimate native life. Drake's family, by and large, were archaeologists - the Indiana Jones family! Willow called them - and had documented historical atrocities for years. That demons didn't qualify as 'native', at least by Council standards, seemed to be a moot point to them and there was already talk about some of the younger cousins training to be Watchers and bringing the Council 'into the 21st Century'. 

Anya and Drake were oblivious to the whole debate; swaying dreamily on the small dance-floor to something slow and forties, gazes and hands locked together.

 _*Huh. Who'd have thought - a Vengeance Demon finds love.*_ Oz watched the two with a small smile, leaning back against Derio and idly stroking his fingers over Derio's encircling arms.

_*Yeah. It's nice. I hope Drake really **gets** what that means.*_

_*I think I made it pretty clear.*_ Spike could smirk _mentally_ , which was unfair as far as Xander was concerned.

 _*Oh, probably. He was actually looking a little green, which I didn't think was possible.*_ Xander watched the two moving slowly around and around and sighed, just a little.

 _*Care to dance, love?*_ Spike looked at Xander with a small, sweet smile and Xander felt his heart pound just a little faster.

"Love to," he murmured, and they both got up and moved out onto the floor. The lights were dimmer here and there were green and gold balloons drifting lazily in a slight breeze from the air ducts. Spike pulled him close and settled his head on Xander's shoulder, arms around his ribs and his hands slowly stroking up and down. Xander did the same, wrapping himself around Spike and getting lost in the music and the sensation - in the warm wave of _*love you love you mine yours*_ from Spike.

_*Love you, vampire-mine. Always love you.*_

_*Love you.... Pet - do you want this? What demon-girl is doing, I mean.*_ Xander pulled back minutely, looking with surprise at Spike, who looked back steadily. After a moment he leaned his head back down on Spike's, the soft hair smelling of ginger and smoke and citrus.

_*I...no. I never really thought about it but...what we are - what we have - is **more** than marriage. I don't need any...ceremony. Did you -?*_

_*Nah. But you seemed...felt like you were sad, love. Felt….*_

_*I guess I am, a little. Manny called this morning, said - anytime we want to go, Seattle's ready. We can just - go.*_ Spike froze in his arms and than hugged him tight, and Xander could feel the joy and the excitement rising in him.

_*That's good news, love! Don't be sad.*_

_*I just...don't think Tara will come. And I'm going to miss her - miss Buffy and Giles...and fuck, miss Dawn so much...and there's never been a time when Willow wasn't just...down the street from me, you know?*_

_*I know, love.*_ Spike kissed slowly up Xander's throat and then lay soft kisses all over his face, ending at his mouth and taking his time. Xander just held on and let him do it - let himself sink into the love and the want and the need. He hated the thought of leaving part of the family behind. Hated that he felt as if he were abandoning Buffy and Dawn. But they had to _go_ , before things got worse. Had to get out and figure out how to make Spike better, because the Hellmouth - seemed determined to suck them in, and Xander couldn't let that happen, no matter what.

 _*God, love you, **love** you...you know it'll be fine. We'll go and we'll do what we have to do and...Seattle's not too far away and it'll be summer soon, Dawn can come stay and...Tara would probably visit too... God...is this right? Are we just - running away?*_

Spike's kiss faltered for a moment and then he pulled away and gazed at Xander, his hands lightly on Xander's shoulders, fingertips stroking the ends of his hair. "No love. Not running away. The Slayer doesn't need us, not really. We just take the edge off, but - half the demons here are just trying to live, they don't bother her. And this business with the Threesome - it's made 'em all a little more willing to stand up and fight." Spike kissed him again, gentle as before, and Xander realized they were barely moving - that they must look a little odd to everyone. But he really didn't care.

"I just want this to be...over, Spike. I want whatever happened you to be _fixed_. I hate seeing you hurt...and I'd go - anywhere - if that's what it took. Go to the fucking moon."

Spike laughed softly, hugging him close. _*Maybe we will, love. Go to the moon. They did it once, didn't they? In a hundred years...who knows?*_

 _*You think?*_ Xander was distracted for a moment by the thought - the _idea_ that _Star Trek_ could become a reality and that _he_ could see it. See it with Spike. "There's no sun in space. You'd be safe." Spike laughed again and spun him around.

_*You're such a geek. Love you, geek-boy. Take you to the moon - wherever you wanna go. It'll be all right, love.*_

_*Yeah. Yeah, I know. Love you, vampire-mine.*_

 

The wedding was set for sunset and Spike and Xander slept in - the whole house did - since the rehearsal dinner had run very late, with the older crowd getting a little drunk and the younger ones running wild. When Spike woke up it was to Xander humming something slightly off-key and an aroma of cherries and chocolate in the air. Spike stretched and turned over and stared. Xander was lying on his back, and there were little chocolates in a heart-shape on his chest. He was nibbling on one contemplatively and a drop of red syrup lay like blood in the corner of his mouth. His cock was hard and damp, tight against his belly. Spike breathed in deeply, scenting sweet and spice and arousal, and felt his own cock rising and filling.

"Xander, love? What are you doing?"

"These are kind of like - like biting into a person, huh? Yummy on the outside, red and squishy inside?" Xander grinned at him and Spike grinned back, confused but delighted.

"If you say so, love, though I'd rather bite you than chocolate any day." Spike moved carefully until he was lying between Xander's thighs, the hot flesh of his erection pressed to Spike's belly. Spike's own cock brushed teasingly at Xander's balls and the curve of his ass, and he wriggled a little.

"It's Valentine's Day, Spike. Gotta have chocolate and hearts. So - here you go." Xander lifted his arms and crossed his hands behind his head and Spike laughed softly - bent his head to slowly lick and nibble at the chocolate that made the point of the heart. Licking and nibbling at the skin beneath it, as well. Xander was right, chocolate-covered cherries _were_ a little like people, but Spike was right, too - he preferred Xander. It was satisfyingly sweet and messy sex and they both laughed until their stomachs hurt when Buffy stormed upstairs to make them get up and stared for one long moment at the smeary bed and the sticky lovers. Then she wheeled and darted back down the hall, threatening them both with something awful - she'd ask Dawn for ideas! - if they didn't get going _now_.

"That dress looks no better in the day," Spike said, and hauled Xander along to the bath.

 

The wedding had been over for two days and they were _still_ eating left-over wedding food and cake. Spike wrinkled his nose at the cake and sighed. He'd agreed to help the Slayer go over her house with a fine-toothed comb. Johnathan had told them that Warren had planted cameras outside the house _and_ inside, and to Buffy's horror Johnathan had admitted that he'd seen everyone in the house in their underwear. Xander had about strangled the boy and for once Spike found himself on the calmer end of things, telling Xander he had to wait, that they still needed Johnathan - still needed information. It had been a close thing.

They'd been all over the second floor and found two tiny cameras which Buffy had torn out in disgust. Now they were taking a break. Tara and Dawn were upstairs going through some of Tara's things that she hadn't moved yet, and Willow was downstairs with him and the Slayer, chattering about classes and generally getting on Spike's nerves. She pointedly did things without magic and mentioned more than once how hard giving it up had been and Spike was about to snap.

_*Calm, love, please? I'll be there in a few.*_

_*Thank gods. I'm not going to forgive and forget and it's obvious that's what she wants.*_

_*Just - don't say anything. She really is doing better, so just...have a smoke?*_

Spike chuckled to himself and then frowned when Willow gave him an odd look. "Talkin' to Xander," he said shortly, and then it was her turn to frown.

"I don't know why Xander wants to have -" Willow started, and Spike shot to his feet, his patience at an end.

" _Leave_ it, Red! Don't start with me today." Willow's mouth opened and closed for a minute and then she scowled, and Buffy heaved a heavy sigh.

"Can you two stop that? It's like Divorce Court in here. Let's just finish up and find the rest of the cameras. I can't _believe_ that freak saw us...." Buffy shuddered and Spike growled. He agreed with the Slayer on that, at least. When he found Warren, the little bastard was gonna lose his eyes for looking at the Niblet like that. And that Andrew - he was going to suffer as well.

"Freak is right. Let's go," Spike said, pushing away from the kitchen counter and stalking into the living room. He looked around, wondering what piece of bric-a-brac or family photo had been tainted with a little spying eye. He heard the rumble of Xander's truck and a minute later the door opened and Xander walked in, smiling as soon as he saw Spike. It was like a ray of pure heat.

 _*Love you.*_ Spike moved immediately to hug him, breathing deeply the mingled smells of clean wood and varnish, sweat and coffee and sweet. _*Smell so good...just want to eat you....*_

Xander hugged him back and laughed softly - claimed his mouth in a hard, hungry kiss. _*I like that. Nibble, nibble, nibble....*_ He nipped at Spike's mouth and then pulled back, still grinning. "Hey, there was some guy outside - was there a delivery? He was just going around the side of the house.

"No guy," Buffy said, coming into the living room, a small china figure in her hands. Willow bent to peer out the window and then Spike snarled because _Warren_ was standing there in the kitchen door way.

"You think you can just - _ruin my life_ and get away with it?!" he shouted, and he pointed - no, he lifted a _gun_ and Spike roared, diving for him. The gun exploded and something hit Spike _hard_ , spinning him around, making him stumble. Willow shrieked and he could smell blood - too much blood. The gun fired again and Xander was shouting something and Spike dragged himself up in time to hear running footsteps - see Dawn and Tara pelt down the stairs. The booming roar of the gun seemed to echo and roll, not stopping, deafening him. Then Tara was falling, red blooming across her chest and Dawn was screaming and he turned to find Warren, to _kill_ him and he was gone. A haze of smoke and the stink of cordite filled the air and Spike staggered upright and ran, through the kitchen to the door, stopping in fury and agony when sunlight seared across his face and chest.

"Spike! Don't -" Xander snatched him back, reeling, and Spike stared for one moment at the blood on his boy's arm - on his chest.

"Xander - _fuck_ \- are you -" * _No, no - love, no -*_

"I'm okay, I'm - _fuck_ \- where's the phone, Buffy and Tara - f-fuck -" Xander's legs went out from under him and Spike saw the phone on the kitchen island - snatched it up and dialed. He dropped to the floor next to Xander, pulling him half onto his lap, holding him tight.

 _*Coming coming coming! Who's hurt!*_ Oz, getting louder, frantic, and Spike didn't know what to tell him, could barely think what to do when the operator's voice came on the line.

"Shot. Three people have been shot," he said, and _*I don't know, don't know, Xander's shot, Tara, the Slayer, oh fuck, maybe Dawn, maybe Willow I don't **know** -*_ The operator was saying something - _'ambulances on the way'_ \- and Spike let the phone drop from nerveless fingers. He looked down and realized _he_ had been shot - that his rib was broken and that the blood down his belly and thighs was his own.

"Spike? Spike!" Dawn was screaming - running into the kitchen and Spike heaved himself and Xander upright.

"Bit - it's all right, I called - they're coming -"

 _*Spike! Xander!*_ The front door slammed open, cracking into the wall and _*Pack pack pack*_.

"Oz is here, Bit, let's -"

"Fuck, I can w-walk, I'm - I can walk, Spike -" _*All right, I'm all right, just my arm….*_ Xander staggered and Spike held him, wincing in pain. The three of them went as quickly as they could out into the living room. Oz was crouched over Tara, his fingers on her throat, and Dawn flung herself down beside Buffy, wailing. Blood was bubbling up out of the Slayer's mouth and she was pale, so pale.

"Jesus - where's - where's Willow? Is she - ?" 

"She was outside - she was running - she looked like...she had blood on her." Oz stroked the hair back from Tara's face and her eyes fluttered open - tracked dazedly.

"Hurts," she mumbled, and Oz shushed her, stroking her arm.

"It's okay - help is coming. Is Buffy -?"

Spike was on his knees beside the Slayer. The bullet had gone in high, missing her heart but shattering her collar-bone and Dawn was sobbing hoarsely into Buffy's hair, a death-grip on her hand. He could hear the faint whistle of escaping air and knew her lung was nicked - was leaking air and maybe sucking up blood and _where_ was the fucking ambulance!

"Buffy, don't die, don't die! I can't take it, I can't take any more -"

"Shhhh, Dawn - it's okay, it's - gonna be okay." Xander sprawled awkwardly, trying to hold Dawn. His left arm was bleeding and Spike could see the black edges where gunpowder had burned his shirt. 

"Wolf, how's the witchling? What happened?"

"I don't know - its low down - her ribs - I can't tell!" Oz's eyes were full of pain - of fear, and his blood-slick hands were pressed to Tara's side, high under her breast.

_*Be all right, be all right, fuck...fuck...it was that Warren, it was -*_

"Where the fuck did Red go?" Spike growled, yanking a throw off of the couch and covering Buffy. She was going into shock and he could do nothing at all. He strode to the hall closet and found a blanket for Tara, covering her carefully and cupping her cheek in his hand. She was blinking, tears coursing silently down her face, and he tried to wipe them away but stopped when he saw he was smearing blood on her. Spike looked helplessly - furiously - around the room.

"Sh-she said she was gonna kill him. She said she was gonna get - enough p-power to send him to h-hell," Dawn stuttered, shivering in Xander's arms, and Spike looked at her - nodded, finally, and sagged in relief to hear the approaching sirens.

_*Fuck, Red - hope you do. Hope you do.*_


	14. Rage

Spike _ran_ , darting through Sunnydale Below like a fish through black water. He could feel the blood on his shirt, cold and sticky - he could hear Xander in his head. 

_*Hurts, hurts, fuck - are they all right? Is Tara all right? Won't tell me...taking too long - **fuck** , needle - Spike....*_ Spike snarled, running faster. He had to get to the hospital before the ambulances - had to get some damn _blood_. Xander had panicked at the thought of the EMT's seeing him and trying to help him - trying to get his vitals - and he'd picked up a piece of broken glass off the floor and cut his arm, holding it out.

_"Drink it, Spike, damnit! They're gonna give me blood anyway and you can't be bleeding when they get here! Just do it, fucking do it -" tears in his eyes and his other arm tight around Dawn and Spike had drunk, shaking, taking in fear and despair and pain with every mouthful. He'd pulled away as soon as he could and then Oz was calling him, urging him to hurry. Pulling his shirt down away from his neck and telling him to drink, **now** , Xander was right, just **do** it and he had. Knowing puncture marks from his fangs would be too much to try and explain away but hating that Xander was hurt more, now, blood pulsing sluggishly over his hand and dripping onto the living room carpet._

But it wasn't enough, for the kind of damage that gun had caused. He'd stopped bleeding - he'd been able to pass the mess off as Buffy's blood, Tara's, Xander's, and they'd let it go. He'd called the Watcher and told him to get to the hospital - called Derio, who'd been on his way anyway, his _knowing_ telling him something was wrong, just like before. The EMT's had been quick, efficient, and practiced and Buffy had been whisked away first, a tube down her throat and IV's already in place. Her lips tinged blue and the broken ends of her collarbone a dull ivory gleam against the scarlet of her blood.

_"Collapsed lung,"_ the EMT muttered, and Dawn had fought to get in the ambulance, going white and furious and the man had taken pity on her and let her in. Tara in the next one, oxygen mask on her face, IV for her as well, her side spattered with blood to the hip and her breath hitching in pain, erratic. Broken ribs, furrowed flesh, and Xander had climbed in with her, a wad of gauze held to his arm, his pale face alarming them all. In the flurry of departures Derio had arrived in his little Honda, cursing in Spanish under his breath and pulling a gore-flecked Oz to him for a hard kiss. Spike had slipped out and into the nearest sewer entrance - half a block away and thank _fuck_ the sun was going down, the street was shady.

And now he dodged and ducked his way through the murk, nearly there, listening to Xander worry, to Oz trying to be calm. The smell of death and blood and chemicals increased and Spike was under the hospital and finding an opening - climbing up and out into the dank sub-cellars that housed the boilers and generators and decades of abandoned, obsolete equipment. He headed straight for the incinerator - where Xander had taken him so long ago, to buy him human blood and tell him, obliquely, that he _cared_. As usual there was blood there, stacked in Styrofoam coolers, waiting for disposal. Spike tore into them, drinking rapidly, ignoring the staleness, simply gorging himself so that his rib would heal and he could safely sit amongst the nurses and doctors without drawing unwanted attention.

_*Here, we're here, thank God. Spike? Oz and Derio are right behind us, there's Buffy - ow! Damn, Dawn is -*_

_*I'm here, love, be right up, hold on -*_ Spike drained a last bag and flung it into the incinerator and then he was going up and up, finding his way easily through the labyrinth of corridors. He could smell his family - could smell their _blood_ \- and he fought the demon back and down. Let his soul soothe it and shush it and make it _stop_ because the demon was close to losing it right there. He finally found the right door and pushed through - felt his knees go weak with relief as he saw Oz and Derio and Dawn, huddled into plastic chairs in the chaotic ER. He strode across to them, ignoring the shocked looks his appearance was getting.

_*Wolf, I'm here, I'm here. Where's Xander, where -*_

_*Stitches, he's okay I guess, family only back there…. Spike, fuck pack pack pack.*_ The wolf was desperate to be free and Oz was fighting it for all he was worth. Spike took a last few steps and then collapsed to his knees, pulling Oz into a hard embrace. A moment later he could feel Dawn's hand on his shoulder and he freed an arm to include her, _*fear sorrow no no no*_ in the link from her. Dawn shuddered against him, crying softly, and Spike pushed his face into Oz's neck for a moment, just breathing, and then he looked up - reached out and snagged Derio in as well, _*family family pack need you,*_ the demon doing its best to include him.

A hesitant cough made Spike look up, snarling, and the Watcher held his hand up, standing there looking pale and lost.

"Giles, Buffy was -" Dawn buried her face in Spike's shoulder again and Giles' mouth compressed to a thin, hard line.

"Yes, yes I know, do you know - anything?" Spike stood up slowly, transferring Dawn to Oz, letting his fingers linger for a moment on Oz's shoulder, Derio's hand. He jerked his chin up, indicating _over there_ , and he and Giles walked to the other side of the waiting room where Ethan stood, looking ill and uncomfortable and distinctly nervous.

"Slayer's bad. Lung collapsed, broken bone -" Spike indicated his collarbone and Giles' mouth opened and then snapped shut again. "Tara, she was shot in the ribs - don't know how bad, she was awake...Xander...." Spike blinked - took a hard breath, calming himself, calming the demon. "Got hit in the arm. Not too bad. They're all - back there somewhere." He indicated the trauma rooms that lined one hallway. "Won't let us back." He dug out his cigarettes and lighter - lit up and inhaled hard. His hand was shaking - was smeared with blood - and Giles stared at the dried-black streaks for a moment, silent. Ethan reached out and put his hand gently on Giles' shoulder and Giles blinked - looked around at him and smiled faintly.

"Yes, well - I... I am listed as next-of-kin on Buffy's paperwork so I'll - I'll go and see what's happening and - see if they'll tell me about - about the others."

"You do that, Watcher. Oz said - Red ran out of the house. Talking about power - talking about sending that Warren bastard to hell. She's not here, Rupert." Giles' eyes went wide and Ethan scowled. He stepped up a little closer, and his pallor had taken on a tinge of green.

"Ripper-love, this place - is making me ill. Why don't I go to the shop, see if - if I can find out what she's up to?" He tried to sound off-hand but his voice was shaking and when a doctor in a white coat walked by, brushing his arm accidentally, he flinched hard away and shut his eyes. Spike could hear his heart - could see the sweat sheening his skin. Ethan's magic - his _self_ \- that was under fragile control at best had gotten loose and the seething wrongness of it made the demon snarl - made it want to bite and tear. That in itself told Spike how close to the edge Ethan was, here, because just lately he'd gotten very good at controlling the residual magics that crackled around him.

_*Calm, calm, calm,*_ from Oz, and _*It's okay, it's okay, ouch, fuck -*_ from Xander.

_*Man's gonna lose it. Send him off, Ripper, we don't need his chaos here, anyway.*_

"I think - that would be best, Ethan, thank you," Giles said softly. He leaned over and kissed the mage - cupped his cheek for a moment and then Ethan was turning and striding rapidly out, his face grim, his hands in fists. Giles watched him go for a moment and then turned back to Spike, who was intent on inhaling the last inch of his cigarette.

"I'll go see what I can find out. I'll be back soon."

"Right," Spike muttered, and Giles walked over to the admitting desk, dredging up a faint smile for the harried-looking woman working there. Spike finished his cigarette and pinched it out - shoved the butt into his pocket. He went back over to the others and settled down in a chair, hands deep in his pockets. Waiting, and he hated that.

_*Xander, love - you all right?*_

_*I'm okay, I’m just...they're working on Buffy...fuck....*_ A brief flash of the Slayer, naked on white sheets with a towel over her hips, blood like a shawl over her shoulder and chest, dripping on the floor. Machines, noise, a swarm of scrub-suited men and woman buzzing around her with gloved hands and masks. There was a flinch in the link - Oz - and Spike felt blindly for his hand and squeezed it.

_*Slayer constitution, love, she'll be all right. Can you see Glinda?*_

_*A little - she's not - not as hurt as Buffy, but -*_ A similar scene, a little more subdued, Tara wincing and talking to a doctor, hands and drapes and machinery around her like bizarre apostles. Xander was in the middle room, and no-one had thought to shut the blinds over the big windows that flanked him.

_*God, I hate this. Wish I could leave....*_ Xander was keeping calm by the thinnest of margins and Spike shut his eyes and concentrated, sending as much calm - as much love and reassurance - as he could muster. He wished they could just go home, too, but he knew they couldn't - knew they'd be here for hours, or days, and Xander had to calm down. The human was faint from blood loss - from the after-effects of the adrenalin surge - and feeling nauseated. The smells and sounds weren't helping and Oz was suddenly there, singing something into the link. Low, wordless hum, part of the chant he used to keep the wolf at bay and Spike let it wash over him and calm him - opened wide to it and just waited, eyes shut. It was all they could do.

A half-hour later Spike surreptitiously pulled his t-shirt off his ribs and grimaced as the dried blood unstuck from the raw, new skin of the gun-shot wound. Beside him Oz twitched and glanced over - put out a hand and let it rest on Spike's knee. Spike took it and squeezed, grateful. Dawn was sitting huddled into his other side and he stroked her shoulder over and over, unconsciously humming Oz's wolf-chant under his breath. 

Derio pushed in through the doors at the end of the hall, soda cans and cookies in his arms and he sat on the magazine-strewn table in front of them, putting the packages down.

"Hey, Dawn - why don't you try and have some of this? Make you feel a little more steady, huh _gatito?_ " Dawn's hands, curled over the hard plastic of the chair arm, were shaking, shaking, shaking, and Spike nudged her a little, making her sit up fractionally.

"Have a bite, poppet. We'll be here a while yet - don’t want to fall out before you get to see big sis, do you?" Dawn's eyes - dark and wet and bloodshot - gazed up at him blankly and then she blinked and shifted - put one foot tentatively on the floor and leaned forward. Derio opened a soda for her and held it out - opened a miniature pack of cookies and she took one, nibbling slowly, sipping in minuscule mouthfuls. Sugar and carbohydrates, natural tranquilizers so maybe she could relax a little - maybe wake _up_. The link from her was numb - whisper-faint and full of utter despair. He could feel Xander, who was finally getting stitches - who was tranked up on Demerol or something so that his thoughts were skittery and strange.

_*Loud, that was loud, makes my head - Spike? You there? It's not...is this what it's like when - Spike? Where's Oz? Why can't you... Spike? I can't see you, I - need to….*_

_*Love, love, I'm right here, I'm just waiting for you. Get you all fixed up right and then I'll be there, love, just -*_

_*Spike? Fuckin' cold, I....*_

Spike stood with a snarl, taking three fast steps towards the hallway and the trauma rooms before Oz's hands were on his arm - around his waist. Oz got in front of him and stopped him - held him tight and flooded his senses with _*Pack pack stay here pack love you stay here stay here safe, he's safe, pack pack pack.*_ Scent of earth and pine, scent of blood, fucking _blood_. Xander's and Tara's and Buffy's blood all mingled and Spike stared down at the werewolf, shuddering.

"Don't, Spike. Come sit back down, okay?" Soft voice, pleading eyes, and Spike slumped a little and pulled Oz close - hugged him, his face pressed into the prickly-soft hair, his body pressed against the small bones and warm flesh. Oz's hands rubbed up and down his back, slow caress and Spike finally sighed and backed off a little - let Oz turn him and tug him back to the chairs where Dawn was eating like a little zombie mouse and Derio was tight-lipped and furious - as scared and as angry and as helpless as they were. Derio watched Dawn for a moment and then turned to Spike, a small frown on his face.

"Where's that Johnathan?" he asked softly, and Spike had to think about that.

"No idea, mate."

"He's at the shop today," Oz said, elbows on knees, looking utterly worn. He lifted his head and looked at them, his eyes dark-circled. "He was going to do some inventory. I think he's trying to get us to....keep him. Make himself useful."

"Never happen," Spike muttered, tipping his head back to stare blindly at the ceiling.

Giles had disappeared into the warren of rooms somewhere beyond the waiting area and no one would _talk_ to them. Spike was ready to get up and start shouting - or smashing - something, when he felt Oz stiffen beside him and looked around for whatever _new_ threat had arrived.

_*Ah, bloody hell, the filth. Just what we need.*_ Two Sunnydale police officers stood at the admitting desk, flashing badges and asking questions, and the duty-nurse pointed over at their group. Spike felt the growl rumbling up out of his chest and beside him Oz took a long, slow breath.

_* **Calm**! Calm down. I'll talk, I'll tell them what they need to know. Don't do anything, Spike,*_ Oz thought, his hand tight in Spike's, his wolf-scent getting stronger as his own control slipped for a split-second.

_*Do my best. Keep it simple, wolf.*_ The officers walked over and stood there for a moment, just staring. Spike knew what they saw - three blood-soaked people, pale, shaken, and about done-in, and Derio who was bristling like a pissed-off cat the longer the stare went on.

"Hello. I'm Detective Eric Watson," the first one said, a tall, thin man with salt-and-pepper hair and glasses. "This is my partner, Ron Moore." Detective Moore was also tall, but built like a bull with a fringe of gingery hair around his head and a nose askew from being broken. They both wore crumpled, dark-colored suits and stank, to Spike, of stale sweat and cigarette smoke, grease and blood and chemicals. "You were involved in a shooting today? Care to tell us what happened?" Watson pushed his glasses up, blinking at them.

" _Victims_ of a shooting," Derio muttered, and Watson glanced at him. 

"Your name, sir?" Moore pulled out a little notebook and flipped it open - got a pen and sat heavily on the low table across from them. Dawn stared blankly and lifted a cookie to her mouth, eating it slowly.

"Desiderio Padovani. I wasn't there when it happened," he said shortly, and Oz reached over and grabbed his hand, pulling it into his lap and lacing their fingers together. The detective's eyes flickered at that but he said nothing. Spike pulled out his cigarettes again and lit one, desperate for something to distract him.

"You can't smoke in here," Moore said, pointing over his shoulder at a red 'No Smoking Allowed' sign and Spike took a long drag and blew the smoke in his face, feeling that utter stillness that came over him when he was on the verge of mayhem.

"Piss. Off," Spike growled, and Watson reached for his cigarette, scowling. Spike felt the demon rising, and _Oz_ did, because he intercepted Watson's hand, stopping him cold and obviously surprising the man with his strength.

"He'll put it out. It's been a rough day, okay?" Watson withdrew his hand slowly and Oz looked over at Spike, tipping his head a little. _*Put it out, okay? We'll do this and they'll go.*_

"Yeah, all right," Spike grumbled, taking a last hard hit and then grinding the smoke out on his heel. He shoved the butt into his pocket and glared at the officers, who stared back.

"Now," Watson said, settling his tie and taking a deep breath, "why don't you tell me -?"

" _Xander_." Spike was up and out of his chair, knocking into Watson and ignoring his yelp of surprise. Xander stood unsteadily in the hall, his arm bandaged and up in a sling, his face shockingly pale despite a transfusion. There were still smudges of blood down his cheek and on both hands, and his jeans were stained with dark spots and streaks. His shirt was gone and he had a scrub-shirt on, the sleeve split so his bandaged upper arm would fit through. Spike just grabbed him and held on, face buried in his neck and arms tight around him, hugging him from the side a little so he wouldn't crush Xander's hurt arm.

_*Bloody hell, about time, you all right, love? You look knackered, gotta get you home and in bed, love, god, love you love you love you....*_ Spike knew he was babbling - didn't _care_. Just wanted his boy, just wanted _Xander_ ; smell of wood and spice and sunshine, smell of _home_. Xander's right arm was tight around him, and his lips were against Spike's neck, moving as he murmured softly.

"Love you, it's all right, hush, love, I'm all right, love you, love you...." _*Love you love you pack pack pack.*_

"Christ." Spike pulled back finally - pushed his hand back through Xander's hair, feeling the stiff strands where blood and sweat had dried, matting it. Xander wobbled a little and Spike held him, frowning.

"You guys okay? Did Giles find out anything?" Xander asked, and Spike shook his head.

"We're fine. Nothing yet, he's still back there. Ethan went to try and track Willow - she's out hunting Warren."

Xander's eyes went wide and then he looked over Spike's shoulder. "Fuck. The cops. Never around when you need them…." He sighed deeply, and Spike ghosted light little kisses over his cheeks and lips.

"Yeah. Gotta tell 'em what's what and then they'll go. You up to it, love?" 

"Yeah. You stay right with me," Xander murmured, and Spike kissed him again, slow kiss on the mouth, and they finally turned and went slowly back over to the chairs.

"Xander?" Dawn said, staring at him, and Xander sank down in a crouch in front of her, ignoring the detectives.

"I'm right here, Dawnie. You okay?"

"Where's Buffy? Is she okay? Nobody'll tell me -" Dawn blinked, and tears streamed down her face unnoticed. Spike crouched down as well, wiping the tears off her face with his thumb.

"She's fine, Dawn, just fine. She's hurt so they have to help her, and it takes a while is all. She'll be just fine, okay? Promise." Pain in the link, and fear - flashes of Buffy being wheeled away, and Spike wanted to put his fist through the wall - through _something_ , because there was too much pain, too much despair, and Oz and Xander and Dawn were drowning in it.

_*Hold it together, damnit, just -*_

"I'm sorry to interrupt you, but we really do need to ask some questions," Watson said, sounding anything _but_ sorry, and Spike was standing fast, feeling his lips going back, feeling his hands spread and stiffen in anticipation of - something. Of tearing the man's heart out and shoving it down his partner's throat.

"Spike!" Xander shoved bodily into him - Oz did from the other side, just crowding him, distracting him, sending so hard through the link he cringed, just a little. The detectives were looking irritated and ready to blow, Dawn was sending nothing but fear through the link and Spike shut his eyes and just let them do it - let them soothe the demon, smooth his rough edges down - let the soul take control so thoroughly that for a moment Spike felt dizzy. Then he opened his eyes again and looked at Xander. Exhaustion, fear, grief, and a desperate pleading in his boy's eyes.

"I’m sorry, love. So sorry. Be all right now, yeah? I'll just -" Spike sank down slowly into the chair that was behind him and Xander came around and sat next to him, hand tight in his. Dawn on the other side, and then Oz was sitting as well, and Derio, all of them shaking with reaction - desperate to get this over with. The detectives exchanged looks - cleared throats. Started with the questions.

 

"I really don't know," Xander said, for about the third time, and he could feel the hyena pushing, pushing. He was so _tired_ and his arm felt as if it were on fire, pulsing flame with every heartbeat. His head was pounding, he was hungry and nauseated at the same time, and Dawn looked ready to collapse. Spike was shredding his way through his fourth magazine, his teeth gritted so hard Xander could feel the ache in the link and Oz was starting to get snappish. Even Derio seemed to be hanging by a thread, and he kept turning and looking over his shoulder as if expecting someone to walk up and touch him - or hit him.

"Does this Warren have any friends in town? A place he could stay?" Watson asked, and Xander should his head.

"The only friend I know about is Andrew, and he's in jail right here in Sunnydale. Why don't you go ask _him_ -" Watson's phone beeped suddenly and he held up hand and flipped it open - stood up and moved a few paces away. Xander felt Spike stiffen beside him and he knew Spike could hear what was being said. Xander could hear the other voice, as well, but he couldn't make out individual words over all the other noise - over his own heartbeat.

"Gotta go," Watson said shortly, and Moore stood up, shutting his little notebook and stuffing it away in a pocket. "If you hear anything, give me a call, all right? We'll be in touch." Watson held out a business card and after a moment Xander took it, nodding. The two men hurried away and Xander slumped back in the chair, his back screaming in protest.

"Fuck," he muttered, and Spike's hand slid over his lower back, rubbing gently. "What was that about?"

"Seems someone is at the jail. Seems _someone_ is busting the place up." Spike looked grimly pleased and it took Xander a moment to figure out what he meant.

"Oh, fuck. Willow? Is it - do you think it's Willow?"

" _Something_ is going on," Derio hissed, leaning over Oz and looking a little spooked. "It all feels - it feels _wrong_. If Willow is looking for power, she's found it, and she's using it." Derio's _knowing_ was something like a spider-web: it stretched far, but Derio only got the distant vibration of actions and reactions - enough to tell him things were happening, not enough to tell him exactly what, or where. Although it had gotten fairly accurate if the 'something' involved any member of his adopted family.

"Jesus. What in hell are we gonna do?"

"Nothing," Spike said, and his eyes were gleaming gold, looking surreal in the flat fluorescent light. "Let her have her power, and let her have her revenge. He needs seeing to, anyway."

"But - if she's at the jail she's - she must be going after Andrew. And _he_ didn't shoot anybody...." Xander felt fear - a cold, skittering sensation - washing over him. Willow had pushed limits before. And now - fueled by anger - who knew what she would do? _*What if she can't stop? What if she hurts innocent people? We have to -*_

_*Don't have to do anything, love.*_ Spike looked grimly satisfied at the idea of Willow extracting revenge, but Xander could feel the _demon_ , and it wanted to join in - it wanted to urge Willow to a rampage and cut a swath through the milling cattle of Sunnydale. Whatever Willow was doing - it was broadcasting far and wide, and Xander could feel it through the demon - through _Oz_ , and it was slowly but surely putting them all on edge.

_*Don't, Spike! You can't - do that. **We** can't. We have to make sure Tara and Dawn are all right - we have to make sure **Buffy** is -*_

"Protect them," Spike muttered, and the demon meant _'take out all enemies, no mercy'_.

"Fuck," Xander didn't know what to do - felt relief as Giles came down the hallway finally, looking rumpled and tired, frowning.

"Giles - thank God - what's going on?" They all stood up, even Dawn, clustering around the older man and Giles rubbed wearily at his forehead.

"It's all good news - it's good news, Dawn. Buffy had to have surgery. The - the bullet hit her lung and she was having trouble breathing...they had to repair the damage and - and fix her collarbone, it was badly shattered. She's in recovery right now, she's still asleep. We can - see her in a little while." Dawn gave a sort of breathless _'ooh!'_ and darted forward to cling to Giles, hugging him hard. Giles slowly put his arms around her and held her, and then looked wearily up at them again.

"Tara is fine, she's..... The bullet cracked two ribs and then traveled...she was standing just right and - it went around her ribcage, along the - bone. Very painful and - a lot of muscle and tissue damage but she's - she's fine. She was in surgery, as well, but...she's asleep, now - they've got her on a rather high dose of pain medication." Giles rubbed his forehead again and sighed. "The police said that no one could go back into the - house for a few days, so…."

"Dawn can stay with us, Giles, no problem. She's even got clothes there. How long...will Buffy be here?" Xander reached out and patted Giles' shoulder and the Watcher smiled briefly at him. Spike shifted restlessly and Xander leaned into him, making the vampire concentrate on _him_ \- trying to keep him _there_ \- keep him calm. He could sense it was a losing battle.

"I think - Buffy will be here for a week, at least. Maybe longer. Her Slayer constitution will make any stay shorter, but...she'll need time to recover. She's going to be just fine." Giles said the last to Dawn, who nodded into his arm, still hugging him.

"Thanks, Giles," Oz said softly, and Giles nodded. 

"I think it would be best if we all went home and - got clean. Changed." Giles was looking rather pointedly at Spike and Xander, and Xander nodded. He could smell the blood, even dry, and it was contributing in no small part to his continuing nausea. "And then we can come back here and - and be here when Buffy and Tara wake up." Giles ran a slow hand down Dawn's back - gently got her to let go of him.

"Will you be all right, Dawn, going home with Xander and - and Spike? You need to change out of those clothes before you can see Buffy."

"Yeah, I'm fine - I'll be fine." Dawn wiped her eyes and forced a smile and Xander hugged his arm around her shoulders.

"We'll take care of her, Giles. Okay." He looked around at his family and could see they were all as ready to leave as he was. "Let's just go." Giles nodded, sighing a little.

"I'm going to go by the shop, see if Ethan knows anything, or if Willow has turned up. I'll...I'll see you all later." Xander smiled faintly, hugging Dawn close, and they all turned and walked out of the ER. Oz's van was off to one side and he plucked the parking ticket off the windshield with a bit of a snarl, shoving it into his pocket. Xander helped Dawn up into the back of the van and climbed in after her, Spike steadying him as he stumbled a little, off-balance.

The drive home seemed to take forever and Xander leaned back against Spike and closed his eyes - wished that he could just sleep for a day or so. Just let it all go. But Dawn was trying her best to carry on a conversation with Oz and Derio, and he could still feel the tension that was zinging through Spike and making the vampire shiver all over, like he had a fever. Xander sighed and sat up a little.

"We can get something delivered when we get home - try to eat."

"Yeah, I - I'm kinda hungry," Dawn said, eyes downcast as if she shouldn't be, and Spike finally broke out of his reverie, slipping an arm around Xander's waist.

"Course you are, Bit. Nothing wrong with that." Dawn's face, intermittently lit by streetlights looked relieved and she smiled, just a little 

_*When did it get dark? God, how long were we there?*_

They ordered Chinese while Dawn took a shower, and Spike paced around the house. Something was pinging through the link - something was _happening_ , in Sunnydale, and Xander was sure it was Willow. Was _afraid_ it was Willow. Derio was restless and nervous and when Dawn came downstairs in fresh jeans and a sweater Oz snagged his boyfriend's arm and hustled him upstairs.

_*Sorry, gotta get him calm, we'll go fast,*_ in the link, Oz getting Derio under the hot water and letting him scrub at dried blood.

_*It's okay. Don't worry about it.*_ Xander picked at some soup - ate a few noodles - watched Spike smoke one cigarette after another. Watched him drink longer and longer swallows from a bottle and felt the unease - the prickling of _*rage hate want want want*_ that the demon seemed to be channeling from somewhere get stronger and stronger. When the phone rang they all jumped, and Xander went to answer it as Derio and Oz thumped down the stairs.

"Hello?"

"Xander, it's Giles. Willow - well, she was here. She apparently got Andrew out of the jail and then she -" Giles paused, and Xander felt a lurch of fear.

"What, Giles?" Oz and Spike watched him, tense, listening. Oz muttered something to Derio, who nodded slowly.

"She stole power - she's drained several books of - of everything. She - tried to take energy from Ethan but his power.... Well, it doesn't work that way. She's hurt him."

"Damnit! Fuck, Giles, I -" Xander shut his eyes for a moment - gasped in surprise at the touch of fingers on his neck and then sighed as Spike wound his arms around him. "Do you need help? Do you -"

"No, I.... " There was a murmur - probably Ethan - and then Giles was back on the line. "Yes. Could you ask Oz - to please meet us here at the shop? We need his help to find Willow. And - and Spike as well. The coven - sent me...something. But it's going to take - a little time to work. We need to - to find her. We need to try and stop her. Or at least, distract her."

Oz's eyes were black, and _*pack protect not pack not pack*_ was in the link, the wolf ready to fight Willow - to do whatever it had to. The demon was incoherent - was _*rage hate end it end it*_ and Xander wanted to cry.

"I'll - yeah, we... They're on their way, Giles." Xander hung up abruptly and turned, grabbing Spike's arms in a hard grip, his wound screaming in pain that made Spike and Oz both flinch. "Giles needs your help, Spike, and so does Willow and I know - I _know_ you don't - care. I know you're fine with her - killing Warren. But if she does, Spike - if she does she'll never - get over it. She'll never - recover." He stared at Spike - stared at him and opened the link wide, letting everything he felt for Willow flood the link. All his love and pride, all his awe and fear, all his anger and all his forgiveness. The demon fought it - surged wildly and Spike snarled, game-faced and furious. He wrenched away and a bolt of pain sizzled through Xander's arm. He gasped, cradling his arm to his side and the demon gave a mournful wail.

_*Sorry sorry protect not pack not not not.*_

" _Spike!_ I know. I _know_. But please, please - for me, please, don't - try not to let her do this. _Please_." _*Don't want to lose her. She's done so much but she's still...Willow. Still...part of me.*_ Dawn was frozen at the table, terrified, and Oz was shifting over, becoming more the wolf. He leaned up and kissed Derio - stalked slowly to Xander and Spike and forced his way between them, growling at them both.

_*Go, let's go, safe safe, keep her safe, protect, let's **go**!*_

Spike blinked and seemed to come back to himself, and he kissed Xander hard. "Do my best, love. Do my best, promise. Love you. Stay _here_ , stay safe -"

"Yeah, I will. Fuck, Spike - Oz, please help her." Oz nodded - rubbed his cheek along Xander's and then he turned and darted out of the kitchen - out of the house - Spike on his heels. They ran, and Xander slumped down next to Dawn, trying to smile. Dawn took a sip of her juice and then put her hand out. Xander took it - watched as she did the same to Derio and pulled the other man close.

"We have to stay here and be strong for Buffy and for Tara. Willow's going to be all right and - and we'll go to the hospital in a while and see Buffy, okay? And we'll be fine." Dawn looked anxiously at Xander - at Derio, and they both nodded, dredging up smiles. But the air seemed to burn, and Xander followed Spike and Oz through the link - felt the shifting lines and wells of power that made up the Hellmouth grow agitated and erratic. Willow was stirring a seething pot, and it was very, very close to boiling over. Xander hoped Giles could somehow put out the fire. He glanced at the kitchen clock and winced. Not even nine.

_*God, could this day be any longer? Spike - Oz...love you….*_

 

Running through the night with Oz - with the Hellmouth lit up and pulsing like a neon heart - and Spike roared out fury and glee to the night sky, the link to Xander closed to the merest thread. Oz grimly fought the full change, but he could feel the magic as well - could feel the warping of energies all around them and _control_ was becoming less and less of a priority. It was a threat, this surge of energy - a threat and a challenge and the demon _wanted_ it. Months of frustration were coming to a head and Spike wondered if he'd even bother trying, with Willow. Or if he'd just fling himself in head-long, and take out her and Warren at the same time. Beside him Oz growled, snapping at him, pushing hard into his shoulder as they ran, knocking him off balance a little.

_*Protect her, protect! For the pack, pack, pack!*_

_*She's the threat. **She's** the danger. **Not** pack, kill it kill it **kill it**!*_

Oz snarled and his teeth snapped inches from Spike's face, and Spike just laughed. "Don't tell me you don't want to end this, wolf - don't _tell_ me you don't want them all safe!"

_*Break his heart,*_ Oz thought, furious and panting, shivering all over. _*He'll hate us, Spike.*_

_*Can't hate us. Won't. We can fix it.*_

" _No!_ " Oz leapt forward and got directly in Spike's path - slammed into him, full-body hit, taking him to the ground. Half wolf or more, his eyes black, black claws sunk deep into Spike's arms, pinning him there. "No fix. No _kill_. Hear me?" Oz forced the words through the wolf's jaws and Spike hissed at him, the demon all but taking over. He pushed - rolled - flung Oz off of him and then crouched there, his fingers sunk to the second knuckle in the dirt.

"If she hurts him she's _dead_ , wolf."

"Yeah." Oz rolled to his feet - padded over and held his hand out, and after a moment Spike took it - let Oz pull him up. "Hold fas'," Oz said, around wolf-fangs and wolf-muzzle. Around wolf _desires_. Fighting the curdling wrongness of the night. Something - _twisted_ \- something seemed to break and build at the same moment - bubbles rising up and up from an underground trap, breaking and forming endlessly as they went. Power, surging into the Hellmouth.

_*Oh fuck, that's her, she's got something, she's -*_

_*Love you love him, pack **family** hold fast, Spike, keep it together, can't let this happen, hear me? Can't let this happen. She could kill us so be **careful**.*_

Spike stared at him - closed his eyes for a moment when Oz's clawed hand touched lightly at the demon's features - caressing. Lover's touch, brother's touch. _*Careful,*,_ Spike thought finally, shivering, and Oz nodded. Then they both turned and ran for the shop.

 

The Magic Box was all but destroyed; the loft crumpled down onto the main floor, the display cabinets and shelves crushed and broken. Giles was sitting in the midst of it all, unnaturally pale, blood on his face and hair - on his clothes. Ethan lay on the floor beside him, stretched out like an effigy on top of a tomb, dusted white with plaster and red with blood. Spike could feel nothing at all from him and he crouched down beside the mage, listening. Faint heart-beat, like a wren's wings, fluttering, fluttering; his breathing a faint susurrus. Giles looked -.

_*Is he even in there? Christ, what did that cunt do?*_

"Watcher! Where is she? Where'd she go?" Giles looked up at him, blinking - lifted a shaking hand and wiped at the blood that was trickling down his cheek.

"She - the - the coven. In Devon. They extended their powers to me. And...she took it."

"She's got _more_ power? Whose bloody _stupid_ idea was that?" There was a small crash and Oz appeared from around the corner of a bookcase, snarling.

_*She's got most of the magic that was here. She's like a fucking reactor.*_ The Hellmouth was vibrating like a beaten drum and Spike knew that no matter what Willow did, every demon for miles was feeling it - and was gonna try - something. She was a candle to a hundred-thousand moths and whatever damage she did, they would double.

"She's got Andrew, and Johnathan. And - Warren. She had something...she was pulling him in. She's going to - burn out, Spike. She's going to burn herself with the power she has. Too much, and the wrong kind, besides."

"What do you mean, the wrong kind?"

Giles looked dazedly around him and then he looked at Ethan - put his hand out and stoked the man's cheek. Ethan's eyelids flickered and his heartbeat sped a little. "Earth magic. Root magic. The oldest magic there is. What she's used to - what she took from _here_...." Giles made a sort of wave with his hand around the shop. "This is borrowed stuff. _Made_ stuff. Calling up spirits and demons, using talismans and rituals imbued with the power of gods.... That's all a pale copy of the magic that holds the earth to the sun. Holds the air to the earth. She's never tapped that magic, and she can't control it." Giles took a deep breath - coughed, holding his side. "She doesn't know how to use it, and it doesn't like being...manhandled. She thought she just got my power, but it was a - puzzle-box, with the coven's power inside. And - you felt it. She's opened it."

_*Fuckin' Pandora's Box. Where's Hope, I wonder?*_ "Gonna kill her, then?" Spike asked. Oz came to stand behind him, legs against his back, and Spike reached out and touched Giles' shoulder - shook him a little. "Is it going to kill her, Watcher?"

Giles looked at him, his eyes mild and dazed behind his dust-flecked glasses. "It may very well, Spike. I don't know. But if it doesn't burn her out soon, she's going to kill all of us."

Spike looked at him - looked up at Oz, and they both moved at the same moment. Heading out, into the night again, following the path that Willow had left. Poison smoke from a psychic burning and it was choking them both.

 

_*Where in fuck is she going?*_ Spike thought, and Oz leaped a downed tree, panting. Willow's back trail was as easy to follow as the path of a tornado; furrowed dirt, shattered trees, rocks pulverized to dust. A few houses and streets had also suffered, and cars had been tossed like tin toys. The skirl of chaotic magic was a bee-hive buzz, maddening and inescapable. Spike wanted to find the source and make it _stop_ , preferably with blood and cracked bones.

_*Kingman's Bluff is the only thing up here....*_ Oz thought, bewildered, and they ran on. Spike could feel Xander in the link, trying to get his attention; an insistent, warm push that nearly overrode the mind-numbing static that was Willow.

_*Talk to him,*_ Oz thought, sending him a _look_ and Spike finally let Xander back in.

_*Spike, you fuck. I called Giles - he said there's an old temple up there - some old cult...they were gonna destroy the world but an earthquake got 'em and now...Willow's going to finish it.*_ There was panic in his mental voice - panic and bewilderment and an constant undercurrent of grief that his friend, his _Willow_ \- could be so utterly out of control.

_*You told him where she was,*_ Spike accused Oz, and the werewolf yipped in exasperation.

_*Yeah. Deserves to know. Protect pack, Spike! We're not killing anybody tonight.*_ Spike snarled at that - jerked in surprise at a sudden flash from Xander. His truck, skidding around a corner, Dawn sliding into him and hurting his bandaged arm, Derio cursing and wrestling with the stick-shift.  
'  
_*What in bloody hell do you think you're doing!*_ Spike stopped dead, turning furiously in a circle, trying to pinpoint the direction Xander was coming from.

_*I'm coming to help, damnit! You don't care about Willow, and Oz...has too much baggage. I'm still her **friend** , Spike, still her friend and I have to help her if I can....*_ Another flash - a parking lot, concrete steps, and Spike roared, furious.

_*Getting ahead of us, getting there alone -*_ He didn't remember starting to run, but he was - running flat out, the air whistling past and Oz full wolf now, a streak of blackness in the moonless night. _*Xander, you bastard, you can't be up there alone! If she hurts you -*_

_*Spike...love you. It'll be all right.*_ The top of the bluff was in sight and Spike re-doubled his efforts until he was practically flying, skimming over the ground, his newly healed rib protesting in dull stabs. They reached the top of the bluff, skidding and scrabbling in rocky brush and Willow was there, the black heart of a nimbus of sickly green energy floating several feet off the ground. Some sort of spire - church-spire - stuck drunkenly up out of the ground, the churned and broken earth around it stinking of old death. Bits of bone gleamed there, and rusted metal, and a woman's figure graced the spire. Some dark goddess, some _witch_ , forever frozen in a lurid dance. Above it was a red mass - a squirming lump of flesh and blood, skinless and dripping. Its mouth was sewn shut - its eyes bulged in agony and Spike knew it was Warren. Willow was sending a stream of twisted light into the statue, and Spike was sure the figure was moving - was coming to life.

Uncaring, he leapt straight as an arrow at Willow. They connected with a hissing of magic - a boom of energies and Spike stared into her face, his hands like claws on her arms. She was bloodlessly white, veined in black. Black hair, black lips, and her eyes the whiteless, lifeless black of a shark.

"Come to drink my blood, Spike?" she crooned, her voice layered and echoing and too loud, and Spike fought the urge to do so - to simply sink his fangs in and suck her power down his throat.

"Think I wouldn't witch? That'd be the fuckin' meal of a lifetime. More kick than any Slayer." She grinned at him, a death's head parody of her former self.

"Riley sure liked being bitten. Maybe I'll like it, too. Wanna try? If it's real nice, I won't kill you. I'll keep you - make you my pet." She lifted her chin, baring her throat. Spike felt as if he were suffocating - felt the same mindless, claustrophobic fear he'd felt waking in his coffin. Willow's magic was winding around him, tighter and tighter, making him groan. Making him _shatter_ and he felt himself unwinding - felt the damage Glory had done multiplying in him - breeding faster than any virus.

_*God, what is she **doing**? Spike! Oh, fuck that's Warren, Jesus, how could she -*_ Xander's voice, and Spike struggled, terrified Willow would do something to Xander while he hung, helpless. " _Willow!_ " The witch's eyes widened in shock and she snarled - flung Spike aside and he crashed to the ground, gagging. Oz was there, pushing at him - morphing enough to have hands and yanking him up and away. That feeling of coming to pieces stopped abruptly and Spike crouched in the scrubby grass, panting. Xander was standing beside the spire - was staring at Willow, hand on knee, panting. His sling was askew and Spike could feel the pain of his wound - could feel despair and terror and stubborn determination.

_*Love, careful - god, **why**?*_

_*She's my friend. She's my oldest family. I owe her.*_ Willow floated down towards Xander - stopped when her feet lightly touched the cracked earth and rocks that surrounded the spire.

" _You!_ Betrayer. Do you think you can _stop me?_ Think I care about you? Think I'll just - fold up, give _in_ \- 'cause you tell me to? Be the good little girl and follow orders?" She lifted her hand and shot a bold of pure energy at Xander and he reeled backwards, striking the spire and grimacing in pain.

"Willow - no matter what's happened - you're still my friend. My oldest family!"

"But you've got your _new_ family now, Xander," she hissed, and the magic crackled around her, lifting her hair, painting her with a deathbed pallor.

"That doesn't change anything. I still love _you_ , Willow!"

"Oh, you _love_ me. And that's going to make it all better? I can _feel_ it, Xander! Whatever - Giles had, what I took - I can feel the whole _world_ and do you know what I feel? _Pain!_ " She flung another bolt at him, sending him stumbling back a pace, but the maelstrom of light and energy around her was flickering now, unsteady.

_*What is it? What's - happening?*_ Spike asked Oz, and the werewolf shook his head.

_*Giles said she would burn out - maybe she is. But Xander's….*_

_*Stopping her. Fuck.*_ He wanted desperately to rush in again but sensed that he shouldn't - that her rage was dying as surely as her power was, and that it was because of Xander. Out of the corner of his eye he saw movement and he realized Johnathan was there, crawling weakly towards a sprawled figure - towards Andrew. They were both bloody, but alive.

"Everybody feels pain, Willow! Everybody. But that doesn't mean you just - give up! There's still love, Willow. I love you - no matter what."

"Oh, am I supposed to just - get all weepy? Fall at your feet?" Willow flung both hands out, but the magic was thin, now - fuzzy and almost colorless, and Xander didn't even stumble. Willow looked shocked - a little frightened - and her eyes darted around, as if she were coming awake - _seeing_ where she was.

"No. You're supposed to remember that you're not alone. Tara's alive, Willow! She's waiting for you - she's hurt, and she needs you. And Buffy - Dawn.... Do you really want to just - end it for them? They love you - they _need_ you. _I_ need you, Willow. I need a witchy woman in my life." Xander walked forward slowly and Willow was gasping now - shaking. She was slowly fading back to herself as the power drained away, and the oppressive hum of magic was fading fast. _Age_ was overtaking the spire and the statue and it was cracking - falling. The lump of meat that was Warren was barely twitching, and Spike could hear his heart stuttering and failing.

"Willow, please - I love you, and I'd do anything to make this better. I'd do anything...." Xander stopped right in front of her and Willow looked up at him, her chest heaving, tears streaking down her cheeks. She looked around her again - looked up at the sky, taking a hard, gasping breath.

"I'm so _scared_ , Xander! Nothing's the same, nothing's _right_ anymore! I don't know - who I am anymore. I just wanted everyone to be - to be happy, I just wanted things to be like they were!" She crumpled to her knees, sobbing for real, now and Xander went down beside her and gathered her in close, whispering to her.

"Willow, it's okay. We can fix it, we can. I _love_ you, it's okay, Willow, shhh...." The magic was utterly gone now, as if it had never been, and the temple spire abruptly went to dust, shattering into nothing. Warren's body flopped obscenely to the ground and his heart faltered and stopped altogether. Spike felt his legs wobbling under him and they gave out finally, and he sat down hard. Oz was behind him, pressed tight, arms around his chest and Spike held on, watching Xander comfort his oldest friend - watching him tell her lies and promises and weave a pretty story for her. Because he could feel the link, and he could feel the bond those two had shared was severed for all time now.

_*All she wanted was revenge. Didn't think of Tara, or Buffy...didn't think of anyone but herself.... God, how could she do this....*_ Rage and grief and Spike couldn't think of a thing to say. He watched, uncaring, as Johnathan hauled Andrew to his feet and they both stumbled away - probably gone for good. He watched Derio and Dawn come up over the edge of the bluff and stare for a moment, then they both sprinted to where Spike and Oz sat. Spike wearily shrugged out of his duster and gave it to Oz, who pulled it on gratefully and then hugged Derio to him. Dawn sat down next to Spike and just stared at him.

"This is just too crazy," she said softly, and Spike nodded.

"You all right, Bit?"

"I'm fine. I want to see Buffy. You okay?" Dawn was calm - was _different_ \- and Spike suspected that this day, these things, had forced her to grow up just a bit more. Had forced some realities on her that she would never be able to forget.

"I'm fine, Dawn. Shouldn't have come up here, you know."

Dawn shrugged, looking over at Willow and Xander. "Well, Derio didn't know how to drive a stick and so I came along as back-up."

Spike stared at her and she grinned suddenly, and he had to laugh. Just hug her and laugh until his sides hurt, because that made as much sense as anything else had that night, and he had never been so tired in his life.


	15. Breathe

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is a hunt in this chapter, in which the boys allow their 'wild' selves (wolf, demon, hyena) to dominate, and a deer is killed fairly graphically.

It was raining and Spike lay in bed, curled close to Xander, just watching him and thinking. _Remembering_. He'd been doing that a lot - doing it like an exercise, like Oz sitting and saying his Tibetan mantra that made the wolf a part of him and not a savage interloper. Remembering that evening in early March, when the whole gang of them had driven down to L.A. to the airport. Seeing Giles and Ethan and Willow off. To Devon, the coven, and whatever help they could offer. 

 

_Ethan is still frail from his encounter with Willow - still a magical negative, as far as Spike can tell, which is a relief and disconcerting all at the same time. He doesn't look at her, and Spike doesn't blame him. Willow is - the same. Hair cut a little shorter, eyes still holding that wounded, waif-like 'I'm so sorry' look. The look that won't go away and that means less than nothing, now, because she can say 'I'm sorry' until her heart stops beating and it won't change what she did._

_Giles and Buffy talk quietly, Buffy with unshed tears shimmering in her eyes, Giles with the stiff-shouldered, head-down posture he adopts when emotions are too near the surface. When the flight is called and they gather their things - prepare to go - Ethan looks dumbfounded to find Dawn hugging him - and then Oz, and Xander. He just stands there, looking at them, and his clever fox's face is for once devoid of all malice and mischief and instead looks rather like Scrooge when he wakes to find it's still Christmas Day. Giles is also pulled into hard, trembling hugs and Buffy finally breaks down, sobbing into his handkerchief, her make-up running and her eyes impossibly wide._

_She looks all of 13 and Giles can't say a word - kisses her forehead softly and walks briskly away, Ethan's hand tight in his. Willow lingers, accepting their stiff hugs - accepting the little planner that Anya gives her that has her schedule of payments. Willow's in serious debt to demon-girl over the shop and Anya has the look of a pit bull when she explains the payments and the interest owed. Willow just looks bewildered - scoops up her bag and waves forlornly and stumbles away down the concourse._

_It's a relief to see her go; for the family most of all but even for Buffy and Dawn, who spent the last three weeks consoling her and helping her pack. Buffy had just the day before removed the sling she'd been wearing for three weeks, pronouncing herself healed and ready for patrol. Tara still moves gingerly, her cracked ribs sore, the muscles all along that side stiff and achy. She's taken to doing yoga with Dawn every day in an effort to get limber again and she and Giles cooked up a salve that works wonders. Xander has used it, too, and has healed as quickly as Buffy._

_But he still rubs his arm from time to time, as if the pain lingers. Rubbed it at the airport, watching his oldest friend walk away, and Spike and Oz and Derio crowd close, soothing the last of the hurt away, making sure he knows how much he is loved. Tara...takes a deep breath and whispers 'Goodbye, Willow,' and Spike hears the finality in that, and hugs Glinda-witch close._

Spike reached out and traced the scar on Xander's bicep. A palely pinkish spot on his honey-brown arm, the tissue twisted and a little raised. Mostly circular in the front, but larger and star-shaped in the back, where the bullet had torn out. It hadn't had much time or room to fragment or the exit wound would have been bigger - the injury worse. It hurt, to see that. It felt like failure to touch that scar and Spike touched it one more time to remind himself - to _remember._

 _*So sorry, my love...so very, very sorry.*_ Xander stirred, sighing, and Spike pulled his hand back - watched Xander's head turn on the pillow, watched his hand reach out, searching. It found Spike's hip and gripped there, and then Xander was still, and Spike blinked, fighting tears.

_*Still trusts us. See how he trusts us? Touches us and that makes him calm.... Never break that trust.*_

_*Family always **mine**.*_ The demon had never quite recovered from that day - had never quite _relaxed_ again, and the trouble Spike had with forgetting didn't help. But things were getting better, if slowly. Spike reached out again - junkie to drug - and ran his fingers through Xander's hair. Scent of sandalwood and cedar, the ocean and the sap-heavy pines that grew in the near-by park. A long night of patrol, working out tensions and nerves. Tomorrow - today, really, since Spike could feel the sun clearing a rain-shrouded horizon - they were heading out to the forest and...something new. Spike squirmed a little closer, resting his cheek on Xander's chest, inching his leg up and over. Remembering something else, now - reaching for each detail.

 

_Since the shooting, Buffy has worked inside at Alves and Son - has started doing inventory and billing and customer service. Learning to use the computer Manny has, graduating up a couple more dollars in pay and being excited over going to work in heels and kicky skirts instead of worn dungarees and a hard-hat._

_But even the pay raise and one less person in the house has not been enough and Buffy has them all gathered in the halfway repaired Magic Box to listen as she tearfully tells them it's time. Time to sell the house on Revello and find something cheaper - smaller - maybe newer, so she won't ever have to face the nightmare of 'full copper re-pipe' again. Probably just a rental, since she's sure her credit is nil._

_Dawn is sulking, not talking, her eyes red, and Tara hugs Buffy gently and tries to make a move sound exciting: a new place for old, loved things and a chance for a killer yard-sale! It's Anya who really saves the moment - Anya who whips out a newspaper and a pen and starts showing Buffy all kinds of real estate listings. Tells her in mind-numbing detail about points and balloon payments and closing costs and then mentions in a off-hand way that she has, in her spare time, gotten a realtor's license and could she be Buffy's agent? And how buying is better than renting and Buffy can get First Time Home Owners assistance from the government. She promises she won't screw her on the commission._

_Buffy just stares at her, and then starts laughing, which sets Xander off and then Tara, and in the end it becomes almost a party atmosphere, with Dawn chiming in about what she wants in a new place (her own bathroom) and what she doesn't want (a creepy basement)._

_After a long talk with Manny, the old demon shows the girls three houses his company owns - older but refurbished, and all the pipes guaranteed. The prices - suspiciously low. The sale goes smoothly and Anya throws a little 'closing day' party at the flat she and Drake live in. They spend three days moving Buffy and Dawn - and Tara - into the new house._

_"A girl's house and a boy's house. What are we, Catholic?" Dawn mumbles, but Tara wants to come back - to help Buffy and be with Dawn and the pack lets her go. The new house **is** smaller, and Dawn doesn't get her own bathroom, but like all Manny's houses it has graceful details along window and door frames, a mind-boggling number of doors and - special treat - a fireplace. And a view of the sea, which Tara appreciates and Dawn envisions as a place to host parties. They make almost two thousand dollars at their yard sale, and with it they buy cell-phones for everyone._

_"We need to be able to keep in touch," Buffy says, handing them out. Spike snorts and tucks his away, dismissing it, but a week later he's making a deal with Dawn to show him how to decipher the damn thing and retrieve the twenty-seven text messages Dawn has sent him. Anything to make the damn thing stop making **noise**. His next poker night he deliberately wins and loses until he's seen every kitten every demon has, and brings home a graceful seal-point Siamese for Dawn._

_"Miss Kitty needs a friend when we're all out of the house," Dawn says, arms crossed and lip pouting out, daring Buffy to say no. To Spike's horror and Xander's endless amusement, she names the creature Sinclair._

_"Because he looks like you, Spike," Dawn says, holding the wriggling scrap of cream and sable up for Spike's inspection. "Look at his blue eyes! And the fangs!" The kitten bats at Spike's face and he hisses at it - gets a hiss in return and Dawn points triumphantly at the needle-sharp teeth. Miss Kitty takes her time warming up._

 

Spike smiled to himself, thinking of his namesake stalking Tara's swishing skirt-hems and rabbit-kicking Mr. Gordo, and Xander moved again, his hand coming up to rest on Spike's back and pet there for a moment before going limp once more. Spike contemplated the fine hairs that grew down the center of Xander's chest and thought about the past spring. So much change - so many things. 

The Watcher and company off to Blighty the first week of March, the old house on Revello sold and the new house occupied in the last week of April. And then, one week into May they had their own announcement. A place opening up, a chance to _go_ , and Xander looked at Buffy with hope and sorrow and pleading as he told them they were leaving - going to Seattle. _That_ had been days and days of 'talks' and shouting and fights - a night's worth of patrol wherein Buffy detailed every single thing Spike had ever done to screw them over and everything Xander had done to help her and told him, her voice cracking, that if Xander wasn't happy - if he wasn't _deliriously overjoyed_ , she was going to come up there and move him back herself. _And_ kick Spike's ass. Spike had listened in silence and promised utter contentment and had seen blame in the Slayer's eyes - had seen accusation and _'You're the reason he's leaving everything, leaving home, leaving **us**!'_

He silently accepted it, but felt no guilt, and no remorse. The Hellmouth was a sink - was a lodestone for more than demons, and Spike couldn't tolerate the thought of his family living there - _dying_ there - if they didn't have to. He schemed to have Dawn come for the summer - tried to cajole Tara into coming along. But Tara had finally and tearfully said no - said she had to stay and keep Dawn safe and Buffy sane.

Dawn at least had come, to spend a month with them in their house right off the Duwamish Waterway. Rough neighborhood, but that only made the patrols they'd never given up on more exciting, since sometimes they fought a demon and sometimes they stopped the sort of mindless violence that made newspaper headlines. Dawn had kept up her training and came out with them a couple of times, actually staking her first vampire with only a little help.

She spent her days with Derio and Oz at Pike Place Market or the Junction, wandering around the shops and watching the Sound ebb and flow - listening to Derio play his fiddle. Oz was working at a club doing sound stuff again, and Derio still did his computer thing, something Spike had never quite figured out but did bring in fairly regular paychecks.

Dawn had stayed at home with Spike a lot, as well; watching movies and teaching him about the computer Xander had bought so they could email every day or chat late at night. Nearly complete, the family - nearly perfect and Spike had ached for Tara and spoilt Dawn horribly. Seeing her off at the airport had been hard - the demon had screamed for him to just _take_ her and keep her and make the family _whole_ , but Spike had let her go - watched her hug them all and sniffle a little and march onto the plane with her chin up and shoulders straight, wishing there was some other way. And now it was almost the end of September and things had settled into a routine - into _life_ again, without the endless interruptions of Hellmouth origin, and Spike desperately wanted this to be _good_ \- wanted it to be right.

Spike sighed and closed his eyes - listened to the rain falling, steady and soft; listened to the distant sounds of barges and transport ships nosing into port with the occasional blast of an air-horn or a more prosaic bell. Guilt twisted in him - guilt and unease and the sense of having failed again, somehow - somewhere. News from Sunnydale said nothing had happened - _was_ happening - but still.... 

 

_Driving north finally, most of their things in a rented truck with Xander's truck on a trailer behind. A Clem-cousin is driving the DeSoto up and they follow Oz's van, silent. Xander suddenly shivers - looks over his shoulder and then looks at Spike, eyes wide._

_"God! It's been so long since I left, I forgot.... You really - feel it, when you're away from it. You feel -"_

_"Lighter," Spike says, and Xander nods, frowning._

_"Yeah...lighter and...like I can really hear - can really see. God, it's **weird**." Xander reaches for Spike's hand and holds it tightly but he's smiling, and the link is full of happiness. Oz sends the same back and Derio says the Knowing...just stretched itself a bit further. So it's good._

 

But now Spike wondered if he really _had_ got it right, and he sighed again, pressing in close to Xander's warmth, listening to the heartbeat that was steady and strong and solid - unstoppable, if he had anything to say about it.

"What's wrong, love?" Xander asked softly, and Spike smiled, not moving.

"You're getting good at that, pet. I didn't even know."

"It's a good trick," Xander said, and he slid his hands around Spike, pulling him closer and petting in earnest now - long, heavy strokes of his hands that pushed muscles around and made his skin tingle and Spike sighed in pleasure this time. "Now tell me what's wrong? I can feel you...fretting."

Spike laughed, hearing his word from Xander's mouth. "I'm not...well, I am. Just...wondering." Spike couldn't say it, couldn't really think it, but Xander knew, anyway.

"Wondering if this is right. I know. It's - weird, not being in Sunnydale. But it's better. _You're_ better. That's all I care about."

"Don't tell me lies, love," Spike said softly, and Xander's hands stopped for one moment and then resumed their movements, the friction making Spike warm.

"I'm _not_ lying. I wanted you _better_ , and you are. You're more important than the Hellmouth, Spike...fuck, you're more important than the _world_ , as far as I'm concerned. If something big comes up, Buffy can call Giles - or Angel - she doesn't need us like _I_ need _you_." That _internal_ pet, then - Xander pushing love and want and need and _*family pack us mine always*_ through the link like sunshine and Spike had to smile again, half-drunk from it all. And still...guilty.

"But we're not all here, love. And I know you miss them."

"So do you, Spike. But we do what we have to do. We'll go visit sometime...we'll have Dawn back, and we'll make Tara come. Fuck, we'll make _Buffy_ come - show these northern vamps what the Slayer's all about." Spike laughed, and Xander hugged him - sighed a little himself and squirmed, getting Spike exactly where he wanted him.

_*Love you forever, vampire-mine. Things change, it's just...life.*_

_*I'm afraid that….*_

"That what, Spike?" Xander asked, threading his fingers slowly through Spike's hair, and Spike opened his eyes - looked at the window where the curtain belled and swung in the breeze, letting in scarves of rain-scented air.

"That you...resent..." Xander's finger on his lips stopped him, and he waited, almost trembling.

"Love - you didn't force me. You _asked_ me. And I made up my mind, and Oz and Derio did. We came along because we _wanted_ to." Xander's hand slipped under his chin - lifted his face so he could see the dark, concerned eyes. "Want this, want _you_. Trust me to make up my own mind, okay?" Xander leaned a little and kissed him - sweet and mint and warm - and Spike kissed back - curled up and around and got both arms around him and just pulled Xander close, kissing and kissing until his mouth felt bruised.

_*Trust you love, always trust you...my own, family, always always, always….*_

 

"So, we ready?" Xander stood nervously bouncing on the balls of his feet, watching as Spike dragged on his duster and loaded the pockets with sundries. Oz walked by carrying a sleeping bag and he reached out and rubbed Xander's back for a moment, grinning.

_*You okay?*_

_*Fuck, yeah, I just -*_ "Just feel like...don't wanna screw anything up," Xander mumbled, and Oz dropped the sleeping bag and pulled him into a hard hug.

"You can't screw it up, Xander. It's okay, man - just be...you, you know? Just be calm."

"Be me, yeah. Jesus, that's usually the _problem_ -"

" _Xander_." Derio stomped over to him and Oz, frowning. "Stop that, _hermano_. You know it's not true." Xander laughed, a little shakily, and pulled Derio in for a hug as well.

"Sorry, sorry," he mumbled, and then Spike was there, displacing Oz just a little, running lips and the tip of his tongue over the claim-scar and making Xander shiver and smile.

"Just be calm, love. It'll be fine." _*Love you. Can't mess this up. Gonna be brilliant, love.*_

"Yeah, okay...fuck, guys, I'm sorry, I just -" Xander kissed whatever bits of the three of them he could reach and they all pulled back a little, disengaging but still touching, letting _*pack family us always*_ surge through him and through the link. "I just want this to _work_. And I don't want anything to happen and I can't make my brain stop thinking about it."

"I could make your brain stop," Spike murmured, shuttered gaze and half smile and _*What's your pleasure, love; collar, rope, sit on my lap….?*_

"Oh fuck. You do that and this really _won't_ work!" Xander had to grin and Spike did, and the mood lightened - lifted. Xander gave Derio an extra little squeeze and turned away, gathering the last item he needed. Spike did the same, and Derio shouldered a duffle. They'd be gone for four days - _camping_ , which was something Xander equated with a tent made from a quilt in Jesse's back yard, flashlights and Oreo cookies and Willow sneaking over to sit, round-eyed, as Xander and Jesse both tried to tell the scariest story.

 _*And it sucks that that still hurts to think about.*_ Because it _did_ hurt to think about Jesse - still hurt, _always_ hurt - and it hurt to think about Willow. They had gotten an email from her, telling them she was settling in, learning things. But that was all. Xander had sent a desultory reply but...his heart hadn't been in it. He felt like he was in mourning, and trying to talk to what was left of his best friend just made him tired, and angry. _*And it **hurts**. Fuck.*_

 _*Don't think about it, love, don't. Please?*_ Xander nodded distractedly - looked up and caught Spike's eye where he was waiting by the door and smiled, just a little. Spike was more than happy to never contemplate Willow again - had dismissed her from his life and his future without a second thought. And Xander knew Spike wanted him to do the same but....

_*Just hard, Spike. It's okay. Love you.*_

_*Love you too, pet.*_ Spike sighed, holding open the door, and Xander hoisted his toolbox where he kept his wood-carving stuff and went out to the van. He thought maybe he'd have a chance to work on some little things while they were out in the middle of nowhere.

 _*City boy,*_ Oz thought, internal laugh, and Xander grinned to himself. There wasn't actually that much _in_ the van - there was more wood than supplies, which made Xander a little nervous again. He'd never done this kind of thing for real, like Oz had - driving and camping across the country and then halfway across the _world_ , living on stuff he could cook over a fire and bartering his possessions away one by one for essentials like gas and water.

_*Just for four days, love. I'll keep you warm...keep you fed.*_

_*And again with the x-rated. I'm starting to think camping is gonna be like a long weekend in Vegas.*_ Spike laughed from somewhere in the front of the van, messing with a portfolio full of CD's. It was just past nine in the morning and the sky was darkly blue-grey, overcast enough for Spike to safely be out without cover. Xander slung his tool-box up into the van and wedged it securely between a cooler and a milk-crate that held a couple of lanterns and jugs of oil for them, a few coils of muddy rope, a short-handled shovel and several pots nested together. Derio came out of the house with two jugs of water and Oz came out right after him, locking the door. 

"And we're off," he said, _*pack love you happening happening stay close.*_

 _*Close as you like,*_ Spike thought, coming around to the back and brushing his fingers lightly through Oz's hair. They all settled into the van: Oz driving, Derio doing DJ duty, and Spike and Xander in the back, manning the map. They were heading for Mt. Rainier and the over 200,000 acres of forest and solitude that surrounded it. National park, full of rabbits and bears and trees, full of glacier-melt streams and snow and silence. Privacy, for Derio to change for the first time.

 

It was only about two hours, to get to the park gates. Whatever fees or notices were required Oz had already dealt with, and they drove through and then upwards, slowly. Xander knelt between the two front seats just staring. The forest on either side was thick and green - dark, in the greenish murk of the storm-light - shining-wet with rain. There were patches of snow in the deepest shadows and birds everywhere. Oz rolled his window down and the sharp, cold air came in like wine, thick with the scents of wet earth and wood, wet vegetation mouldering into compost and autumn-turned leaves smelling like baked bread and cinnamon and old books. Xander just shut his eyes and let the hyena out, closer to the surface than it had been in long time - since Toth's stick had sheared him from it and set it free. The scents and sounds coming in the window were intoxicating and he just hovered there, breathing in deep, slow breaths. He started in surprise when Spike crawled up behind him and got an arm around his waist, holding him close.

_*It's beautiful...God...this place is….*_

_*Perfect,*_ Oz thought, and Xander agreed. Their campsite was half an hour up the mountain and they only saw three other cars as they drove the twisting road up and up. A strong breeze was blowing and occasionally rain would fall, gusting through the open window and spattering them all only to taper off and stop again. The campsite was deserted.

Setting up camp was easy, since they planned to sleep in the van. Oz had a tarp and two tall poles and he and Derio set up a sort of awning over the back of the van so they could cook and sit and stay mostly dry. The wood was off-loaded - Spike did it in three overloaded trips - and the Sterno cooker and cooler were placed to one side. There was a brick-lined pit with a grate over it and Oz set about making a fire. Xander watched him for a few moments and then wandered away, towards the water he could hear on the other side of a thin belt of trees. He pushed through springy, rain-drenched pines and stopped, grinning. A small creek rushed past at his feet, crystalline water pouring over pebbles and larger rocks and one blackened length of tree-trunk, half sunk in the water and covered on one side with pale green fungus. From here the view was clear and he could see the hoary, eroded cone of the mountain, white with ice and half-sunk in clouds and mist. He breathed, and felt the champagne air to the very bottom of his lungs.

 _*All right, pet?*_ Spike slid out of the trees, smiling at him, and Xander nodded.

_*It's amazing. I've never - been anywhere. Never seen a mountain like this or….*_

_*Want to take you everywhere, love - want to take you over the whole world.*_ Spike wrapped his arms around Xander and leaned against him, hand sliding up under the denim jacket and flannel shirt - finding the edge of his thermal and then his t-shirt and burrowing under. _*Too many layers,*_ Spike thought, with a mental laugh, and Xander shivered as the vampire's cold hands stroked up and down his back.

_*Just enough, and it'll be colder tonight. Aren't you freezing?*_

_*Not with you to snog.*_ Spike pulled him closer and found Xander's mouth and they stood pressed together for a very long time, kissing slowly. After awhile they separated, and Xander leaned his forehead onto Spike's, one hand idly tracing patterns over the black thermal shirt Oz had talked him into wearing.

_*When do you think it'll start working??*_

_*Dunno. It **has** been, a little bit... Have you felt it?*_

_*Maybe. It'll be weird, having somebody else to talk to like this. But good. Do you think it'll freak him out?*_

_*Dunno. Don't think so. He almost does it already, with the wolf.*_ Spike lifted his head and Xander looked at him - looked into his eyes, that were calm and so vividly blue - at the small, real smile that made Xander's heart skip a beat and made his breath catch.

_*That for me?*_

_*Always for you, my one, my own, my only....*_ They kissed until they heard Oz saying something about food, and then they went back to the camp, and Oz started showing Xander how to cook over an open fire.

 

Around five they had everything in place and it was dark already, the setting sun only a streak of deep scarlet for a moment along the high ridges of the mountain before the clouds swallowed it for good. The fire was burning steadily, several big logs laying half in and half out of the pit, ready to be pushed in further as they burned away. The inside of the van was lined with sleeping bags, blankets, quilts and pillows - a den for later. Spike had crawled in to nap for a couple of hours and now he was crawling back out, hair tousled up and his eyes half-shut and almost violet in the dimness. Oz had made coffee and they sat on camp stools drinking it in silence while Derio played something on his fiddle - sang softly, and Xander closed his eyes and just listened.

_"I was born in a forked-tongue story...raised up by merchants and drug store liars…_  
_Now I walk on the paths of glory...one foot in ice, one in fire…_

_I see the mountain...the mountain comes to me...I see the mountain...and that is all I see…_

_Some poor prophet comes, some find solace...some lay him down in a junkyard bay…_  
_Some will chase us and some will call us...gone, gone, gone in a day…_

_Gone to the mountain...the mountain comes to me...I see the mountain...and that is all I see…_

_Miller take me and miller grind me...scatter my bones on the wild green tide…_  
_Maybe some roving bird will find me...over the water we'll ride...."_

Xander was doing his own remembering - _fretting_ , as Spike would say - but he wanted this to work, so he went back over things obsessively, particularly what they'd done a week ago, in preparation for this. Sitting in the living room, the old fold-out couch open so they could all sprawl on it in a comfortable tangle, watching movies and talking. Then the last movie was over and everyone was just comfortably relaxed in the warm, quiet house. Waiting.

 

_*Your boy ready, wolfling? Does he know? Does he consent?* The vaguely formal words from Spike makes Xander sit up a little and Oz lifts his head and runs his hands back through his hair. He has, for some reason known only to himself and possibly Derio, re-dyed it just the day before in a half-dozen shades of fire. Now in the saffron glow from a dozen candles his hair is static flame, tufted upright in locks of scarlet and dull gold, wheat and rust, amber and bronze and snow. Oz looks at Derio, a small tilt of his head, and then at Spike._

_*He knows. He consents.*_

_*Has to say it, love,* Spike thinks, settling cross-legged, wearing Xander's ratty Sunnydale Swim Team sweats and nothing else._

_"Derio, mi amor...it's time," Oz says softly, and Derio stares at him for one long moment and then he's sitting up too - scooting nearer to Oz and they're in a sort of circle now, facing each other._

_"Do you want it? Do you want - us?" Xander says, low and a little hesitant, and Derio nods - swallows and takes Oz's hand tightly in his._

_"I - I want it. I want - all of it. Familia...." Oz smiles at him and Spike does and Xander just feels a wave of relief._

_"Oz told me - how it was? But I wanted to ask...." Derio stopped and looked down - looked back up, nervously twisting the tip of a dreadlock in his fingers. "I wanted to ask - no acero. No i-iron." His nerves are making his accent more pronounced and Xander thinks for just a moment how much he loves to listen to Derio speak - how his native tongue creeps in and makes simple English sound so pretty._

_*Pretty words, pretty boy...* Spike thinks, and he looks at Xander and smiles - looks back at Derio._

_"What do you mean?"_

_"I just - don’t want any knives, yes? Just - would you - usar su dientes, no mas…."_

_"Teeth, pet? Want me to bite you?" Derio shivers all over, his eyes closing for a moment and his hand is clutched so tightly around Oz's that his knuckles are white._

_"Si, si, por favor mi hermano, por favor."_

_"Hush, pet, it's all right." Spike's eyes are gold, now - the link is thrumming with want and lust and happiness - with love and wonder. "That's all right - I can do that." Derio nods - opens his eyes again and looks at Spike, smiling. Then he turns to Oz and kisses him, sweet and slow and *love, love him, want him, pack pack pack* from the wolf._

_*Love you, love him.* Xander thinks, and Spike - reassuring the wolf that Derio is welcome - that he's **wanted**. They end the kiss reluctantly and Derio ducks his head and pulls up the edge of his t-shirt - lifts it off and tosses it aside. He's slim and brown and sleek as a mink and on his left shoulder, close to his throat is a mark - a bite. Oz's bite, two days old, healing fast. The bite that will bring him over, the next full moon, into the world of the wolf. He has a string of beads around his neck, looping down to his belly, red and black. He lifts the beads, slipping them through his fingers and Xander is reminded of the old woman that lived next door when he was a kid, who would sit on her porch and pray over her rosary, glossy-dark beads looping endlessly through her fingers._

_"Legba Ati-Bon, open the way. Dios travesia, protect us, guide us." he whispers, and then he looks shyly up at them, smiling._

_"Can I - give you a gift? Before we -"_

_"Of course, love," Spike murmurs, and Xander nods._

_"Sure, Derio. But - I don't have -" Derio laughs, stopping him._

_"I just wanted to - bring something to this," Derio says, and Xander shakes his head._

_"You only need you, Derio," he says, and Derio's smile is wide and happy - a little shaky at the edges._

_"I...oh, I...." He wipes his eyes with the back of his hand and then leans over a little, reaching out to the small table by the arm of the couch. It's been made into a small shrine and he's had set up there for a day, with candles and incense and a pack of Spike's smokes and a shot-glass of whiskey on it - a small statue of a wolf that Xander carved and a sheet of music that Oz wrote. Derio's fiddle is there as well, and he touches it fleetingly as he picks up something - three strands of beads in rich, shining colors. He holds them for a moment in his hand._

_"These are just - because I want you to be protected my way, too," he says, and Oz rubs his knee, squeezing a little. Derio separates out a strand of beads and goes up on his knees - crawls the few feet to Spike and loops it over his head. The beads are very small, strung in a repeating pattern of three black and three green._

_"Ogoun is your protector - he who metes out life and death - he who clears the way when Papa Legba has found it. Ogoun, protect him." Derio kisses Spike lightly on the mouth and then sinks back - moves so that he's in front of Xander and Xander watches him, feeling as if something is building around them - feeling a low and subtle tingle that he associates with magic - a sort of pressure. Derio untangles a strand of white beads and lowers them over Xander's head and Xander shivers, his skin rising in gooseflesh. The pressure - the tingling - is stronger._

_"Obatala is your protector - he who creates, he who metes out justice with compassion. Obatala, protect him," Derio breathes, and he leans forward and kisses Xander - faint taste of pepper and honey, scent of lime and warm earth. Derio moves to Oz now, and slips the last strand over the werewolf's head; pale yellow and rich amber-gold._

_"Oshun is your protector. Goddess of the waters, and so of blood - of the heart. She who makes beauty with her voice, her hands, her body. Oshun, protect him." His kiss for Oz is only a little bit longer and Derio settles back into his place and takes a long breath - puts his hand to his heart._

_"He who finds the way," he says, and then he points to Spike, Xander, and Oz in turn. "He who makes the way safe, he who sees the truth, she who makes us joyful. As above, so below." As he says the final word there is a strange, singing sort of noise - a whisper-rush of air that swirls through the room and makes them all shiver, flattening the candle-flames. The pressure is for one long moment unbearable - frightening - and then it's gone and Xander is panting, staring at Derio and feeling his heart pound in his chest like a drum._

_"God, Derio -"_

_"It's all right," Derio says, and Xander laughs._

_"All right? It's - fuck, it's amazing." He lifts the beads in his hand and they seem to almost burn, and he laughs again. Oz is grinning, and Spike leans up on his knees and pulls Derio close - kisses him with on hand gently cupping his cheek._

_"Thank you, pet," he says, soft, and Derio's eyes are shining like stars._

_"I wanted...it just seemed like I would be taking -"_

_"No, you're giving," Oz says, and Xander nods. Spike is still leaning close to Derio and he runs his finger down Derio's neck, making the man shiver._

_"Are you ready to give again then?" Spike says, and Derio nods - reaches blindly and takes Oz's hand in his. Spike pulls Derio close again - lets the demon out and for a moment Derio just stares at him - puts up one hand and traces his fingers lightly over the ridged brow. Xander and Oz feel the surge in the link - the shuddering twist of pleasure and desire, and then Spike bends his head and kisses Derio's throat on the opposite side of Oz's bite. Opens his mouth and sinks in his fangs and Derio makes a small, breathy sound - a whimper of pleasure and pain and Spike drinks for a moment and then backs away, licking his lips, his eyes gone heavy-lidded. Blood wells up and trails away, down to Derio's collarbone. Oz flicks a glance at Xander and Xander moves forward and licks, lapping at the blood and sucking for a moment at the wound. Derio's blood is like his kiss - pepper and honey and earth and iron, and Xander shudders. The link is thick with **want** , now - thick with desire and with *pack ours family ours ours.* _

_Oz is panting a little now and he moves swiftly to the bite - licks the blood from Derio's chest and from his shoulder - cleans the bite and drinks what blood will come out and then he's kissing Derio. His hands sink into the bead-strung dreads, his mouth is hungry and demanding and Derio's fist twists in his shirt, pulling him closer._

_Spike pulls Xander to him and yanks his shirt off - catches his mouth in a hard kiss and then slides his mouth down, to lick at the claim scar and send juddering bolts of heat through him._

_*Open the scar, love, make it bleed* Spike thinks, and when his fangs sink into his throat Xander hisses, going from half-hard and pleasantly wanting to immediate, burning lust. He snaps his jaws shut over Spike's scar, feeling the static-shock spark of demon's blood over his tongue and then Oz is there, hand on Spike's shoulder and Derio is bending over him, hot mouth on his throat, tongue slick and probing and throat working as he takes in Xander's blood - Spike's. He is flushed - dazed - and when Spike opens the old, old mark on Oz's throat he moans, a deep and urgent sound._

_"Mi amor, mi amor…." Derio gasps, and then he's drinking, writhing, and Spike pushes Xander down, kissing him with sharp teeth and invading tongue, his hands pushing Xander's sweat pants down and away, kicking at his own as Xander does the same. They are thrusting, twisting; trying for maximum contact and Xander lets his thighs fall open - squeezes Spike's ribs between them and pulls him closer still, fingers sunk deep into the flexing muscle of Spike's back and ass, head thrown back as Spike's mouth worries over the scar._

_Oz and Derio are twined together, the same urgent movement, the same groaning sighs and Xander reaches out and find's Derio's hand - laces their fingers together, palm to palm. Holds tight, pushing *love you want you family ours always always* into the link as hard as he can, hoping Derio might hear it - feel it -something. The tingling pressure of Derio's magic comes back - grows stronger - and the hyena snaps and bites, claws and writhes and **wants** , and the demon's growl becomes a roar of possession and triumph. Oz has shifted, just a little - black eyes staring into Derio's and the wolf opens his mouth and sings out love and joy and completion - **pack**. The rising power crests and breaks like a wave in the sea, flurry of fading wisps like dissolving foam and they ride the ebb of it down and down into sleep. When they wake hours later, a tangle of limbs and salt-sweat and heat, they can all feel the difference._

 

Xander looked up suddenly, aware that the music had stopped and found Spike staring at him from under half-closed lids, his mouth in a lazy smile. Oz was flushed, leaning on Derio, and Derio was staring at him, open-mouthed.

"Were you - _Dios mio_ , Xander, I felt - is that the _link?_ Were you thinking about...that night?"

"Uh...yes? Sorry, I -"

"Nothin' to be sorry for, love," Spike said, and _*Fucking want you,*_ making Xander take in a sharp breath.

"You really felt - something? Felt it?"

"Fuck, I - yeah, felt something, all right," Derio said, half-laughing, and Oz let his hand rest high on Derio's thigh.

"Moon's gonna be up in about...an hour. Should get ready," he said, and Derio blinked and looked at him - seemed to gather himself together.

"Yeah, yeah okay, _lobo_." Derio began to put his fiddle away and Spike got up and stretched - came to stand behind Xander and started combing his fingers through Xander's hair, tugging and gently scratching and Xander leaned back against his legs, _*love you so much...you nervous?*_

 _*A little, I suppose,*_ Spike answered. Xander half-closed his eyes and Spike caressed his cheek and lips - went back to his hair, calming them both with that familiar touch. Oz was moving around the camp, doing small things like lighting a lantern and hanging it carefully from a hook in the van and shutting the doors.

 _*Keep out the damp and make it a little warm in there,*_ he thought when Spike sent a question through the link. Time seemed to pass in a convoluted fashion - slowly and then quickly and then slowly again and Derio and Oz took off their clothes and put them in the van - huddled close to the fire, a blanket wrapped around them. Waiting again.

Derio was saying Oz's mantra under his breath, slowly and carefully, keeping his breathing even. His fingers were locked in the beads he still wore and for the first time Oz was wearing something too - the strand of beads Derio had given him that night. The strand was long enough Xander doubted it would break during the change. His own strand was under his layers of clothing, a faint whisper of power singing through him whenever Xander really though about it. Spike wore his as well. Suddenly Oz became as still as stone, and Derio's voice faltered and died away. Oz twisted his head around, looking up into the blank sky, and even though he couldn't see it he could _feel_ the moon, and that feeling shot through the link. Rumbling static that was sensation and sound too deep to hear with your ears. It made Xander's bones shake and behind him Spike was growling out a sing-song groan.

"Oz?" Derio whispered, and his eyes were black.

"Say it, now, Derio, look at me -" Oz said, his hands on Derio's shoulders and Derio nodded. His lips moved, saying the mantra, and the change...happened. But slowly - as slowly as Derio said the words and Xander watched, fascinated, as Derio's body twisted - extended - warped into the wolf-shape that they knew so well. Oz changed too, but much faster, and they were standing there, motionless. Derio lifted his head, scenting the air - swinging the narrow muzzle around until it pointed at Spike and Xander. His eyes caught and reflected the fire-light and Xander could see the red and black beads glinting in the deep brown fur. And other things - the tiny bells, the beads and wire and trinkets he had woven into his dreads. All there, in the thick ruff that fell around his shoulders and neck. Oz was scenting as well and he went to a tree a few paces away - reared up and clawed the bark, then dropped back down, scratching the earth.

 _*Keep the bears away,*_ he thought.

_*Bears? Fuck...God, Oz - he's...look at him. He's -*_

_*Beautiful. Derio -*_ Spike was pushing - pushing _*pack love you family beautiful*_ hard through the link and Derio-wolf paced closer, a thin whine escaping his throat. He snuffled along Xander's thigh - pushed his nose into Xander's hand and then came closer - reared up as Oz had done and put his forepaws on Spike's shoulders.

 _*Pack.*_ Faint, but it was _there_ and Spike laughed.

 _*Yes! Pack, pack, family - love you! Oz - love you....*_ Spike put his hands out and ruffled the thick, dark fur and Derio whined again - lifted his muzzle and let out a short howl.

 _*Pack...night...cold good prey run run run **run** love....*_ Something seemed to break and then Derio's awareness was flooding them. The scents and sounds of the night doubled - tripled - and Xander gasped. The hyena shot to the surface and let out a shriek of pure joy and Derio snarled for a moment and then _howled_ \- long, quavering cry that Oz joined in on a moment later. Derio dropped back to all fours and trotted to Oz, nuzzling into his side, tail whipping furiously.

_*Pack run hunt blood run run **hunt** *_

The demon roared to life, and Xander pushed himself to his feet - turned around to see Spike pulling off his duster - his _own_ clothes. _*Hunt pack family hunt,*_ from the hyena, urging him on and Xander struggled with the laces of his boots - flung his clothing down as the wolves leapt away, careening into the trees. Spike turned golden-glowing eyes on him and grinned, then he grabbed Xander's hand and they _ran_.

The air was cold and sharp, knifing into Xander's lungs. The patches of snow were like fire under his feet and branches whipped over his skin, stinging him. But it was _good_ \- it was right. Something startled in the brush ahead and the wolves yipped excitement, the link just mindless _hunt_ and _run_ , the rumbling static-roar of the moon like a heartbeat underneath it all.

Hunting in cities was relatively new, to the demon; it flooded the link with feelings -with _memories_ \- race-memories older than time of hunts that were exactly like this. Tracking prey through forest and across plain; _running_ , and finding and drinking blood hot and spiced with fear, with adrenalin, with _life_. The demon roared, dodging trees, and the hyena called again and again, keeping the pack together. Xander felt his human self - slipping back. Not running away, and not being locked out, just...letting go. Letting the hyena take over so that the woods were in sharp relief, everything seeming to glow just faintly with reflected light from the distant cities and filtered light from the moon. The clouds were moving fast overhead and the occasional break in them was like a halogen spot, shining down. Spike was like a flare of white fire in his vision, moving as if his joints were liquid mercury.

Scents - of earth and water, tree and stone. Scent of the demon, which was a burning, sweet smell of magic and age and old, old blood. Wolf-scent, which was a sharp, thick musk, Oz's earthier, Derio's more citrus. Even his own body had a scent, of salt and blood and something honey-sweet, and Xander drew in great lungfuls of the air and let it swirl in his mouth - let it inform him and guide him.

As they ran, small animals started out of the brush around them, skittering away until they finally broke out of the trees and were running across a grassy meadow, the wind in their faces. A scent - hot and rank and thick - blew straight at them and _*prey prey blood hunt*_ was in the link, from all of them. The clouds thinned a little and Xander could see deer - a herd, heads down and grazing. As they got closer the deer shifted - heads came up sharply, ears turning and tuning. Oz made a low sound - a _'go'_ sort of sound and he and Derio launched themselves flat out. The deer bolted, panicked and running in seconds flat and then Oz was leaping, paws extended, jaws closing down on the haunch of a fleeing doe, and Derio was leaping for the throat. The deer stumbled and slewed sideways - scrabbled at the earth desperately with her hooves.

Spike and Xander were a few paces behind and Spike put on an extra burst of speed and hit the deer solidly in the ribs, his hand crooked like a talon and shredding into the soft underbelly. Blood-scent hit the air, thick and hot, and the deer was down, on her side, legs kicking. Derio let go of the neck and howled, a wild ululation that sent shivers down Xander's back. Spike pounced on the throat of the deer and sank his fangs in, the taste of the blood exploding through the link and Xander _wanted_ it. Oz was ripping the belly open, and Derio was worrying at the flank and Xander pushed between them The hyena knew what to do - where to grab - and he went armpit deep in the cavity of the body, searching. 

_*Pack is strong...blood and bones.*_ The hyena yipped in triumph as Xander's hands found his prize - the liver, hot and blood-rich and melting on his tongue, settling in his stomach like a burning coal. Derio sniffed and then tore a piece away, bolting it and Oz pushed in for his own share, bloody to the eyes. Spike tore away from the throat, blood down the front of his body and _roared_ , that booming, ferocious cry that echoed and re-echoed off the flanks of the mountain. Something replied - a grumbling, coughing sound that Oz identified as _*bear*_.

The body of the deer steamed in the cold air - the blood and the bones under Xander's hands felt _good_ \- felt right. The hyena was almost in a frenzy of ecstasy, extending itself as far as it could, feeling and seeing in ways Xander almost never let it. His heart was pounding, solid and fast and strong, his chest dragging in huge gulps of air and he was _hard_ , so fucking hard it almost hurt. He wanted to shred the deer - wanted to roll in it, in the blood, wanted to burrow into the earth and take his pack with him and live in this moment forever.

_*Spike...leader...this...this!*_

_*This this blood and running, sweat and spit and marrow, full belly, hard cock, this this!*_

Spike slithered off the carcass, side-stepping Derio who was shaking his head and shoulders, the hide between his teeth slowly peeling back off of raw muscle. Spike yanked Xander into a hard embrace, his mouth moving in sharp bites over Xander's neck and shoulders - over his chest. Xander sank his fingers into Spike's ass and ground them together, sizzling shock when their cocks rubbed and Spike pushed his hand between Xander's legs, breeching him with blood-slick fingers.

 _*Fuck, fuck, Spike - pack, pack leader **yours** , mine, mine now...*_ Coherency was fragmenting and Xander dragged Spike down to the grass - wormed his way onto his stomach and spread his knees wide, bracing his elbows on the ground, inhaling the sharp spice of the crushed blades and the rich soup of the earth-smell underneath.

When Spike slammed into him, no preparation and almost no warning, he lifted his head and screamed and it was so fucking _good_. Oz and Derio were snapping and snarling, shifting back off the full change and rolling onto the grass as well, clutching and biting, _*mine yours pack mine*_ mindlessly in the link from Oz, nothing but pure _want_ from Derio.

Xander pushed back hard into Spike - arched his throat and begged for the bite he knew was coming, his own hand tight around his cock but _*love this love you yours yours yours **take** it, pack Spike fuck fuck fuck.*_ He knew, dimly, he'd be sore and maybe sorry in the daylight, but right now he never wanted this to end.

 _*Mine,*_ the demon growled, and the fangs were needles of silver that sent a wave of fire through Xander and he howled to the sky. This was _belonging_ , this was pack, and if it never happened again he would never, ever forget.

 

________________________  
Tracy Grammer and Dave Carter - _'The Mountain'_


	16. Lies

Spike shuddered awake, gasping, twisting frantically away from the hands that were on his shoulders. He growled, feet skidding over the flannel sheets and then there was nothing and he was _falling_ and he hit the floor with a _thump_ that jarred his teeth together.

" _Spike?_ You okay?" Xander's voice - Xander's face, peering at him over the edge of the mattress, wide-eyed and _*Love, safe, you're safe - Spike? Wake up, love, wake up, you're safe -.*_ Spike just stared back for a moment and then slowly he sat up - pushed up until he was on his feet and crawled back into the bed. He was shivering and Xander pulled the covers back - got under with him and snuggled close, pulling Spike into the furnace heat of his own body and bedclothes warmed by an electric blanket.

"Love, shhhh, it's all right, it's all right...." Xander stroked his hair - rubbed his back - and Spike just clung to him, face buried in Xander's neck, trying to sort dream from real - frantically shoving images, memories - _sensations_ \- back into the deepest recesses of his mind.

_*Question fear question,*_ from Derio, downstairs somewhere, and _*Nightmare, it's all right...Spike? Okay?*_ from Oz. But Spike couldn't quite articulate a response - couldn't get the nightmare packed away fast enough and Xander's arms tightened around him, just holding as hard as he could

_*What is that, what, what -*_ Derio sounded confused - sounded _scared_ \- and Spike focused and _pushed_ , forcing every bit of the nightmare down and away and gone.

_*Initiative. That's...thought that was...?*_ confusion from Oz, and Xander stroked Spike's back, kissing his hair and his temple, kissing his forehead.

_*Hasn't dreamed that in a while. Love, you all right?*_

_*All right, I'm - sorry, sorry....*_ Spike wanted to hit something - wanted to _kill_ something. He hadn't dreamed of the Initiative...in over a year. _*Fucking hell...it's Glory, it's...fucking 'aftermath' but it's getting **worse** , it's -*_

"Love, it's all right, shh...."

Xander's heart was pounding under his ear, and Spike nodded into his chest, trying to calm _himself_ down - trying not to panic. There was sunlight behind the curtains - low and mellow gold and Xander smelled of wood and varnish and sawdust. Smelled as if he'd just gotten home. There were footsteps up the stairs and the door creaked open and first Oz and then Derio slid into the room. Derio looked thoroughly spooked and Spike winced inwardly.

"Didn't mean to scare you," he mumbled, and Derio and Oz both came closer, settling on the edge of the bed.

"Not your fault," Oz said, his hand finding Spike's foot under the blankets and squeezing gently. Derio was looking steadily down at where his hands were playing with a dreadlock, and he'd managed to shut the link down to almost nothing.

"Derio?" Xander said, and the man looked up sharply, his black eyes snapping with some emotion.

"That's - Oz told me, before, but… _Dios mio_ , he never...told me…. Did they do that to you too, _mi amor?_ Did they - _fuck_ -" Derio clamped his mouth shut, shuddering, and Oz pulled him into a tight embrace. _*Protect pack outsiders kill them!*_ from Derio. Fierce but also desperate, because there was no one _left_ to kill - no one left to fight.

_*Love you, safe, we're safe, it's all right, pack, family.*_

"Bloody fucking hell...." Spike felt as desperate as Derio did but for different reasons. _*Can't do this, can't go **back** to that - have to know...what this is.*_ He'd been spending his time lately going around to different places - _demon_ places - and asking questions. Finding out this and that but none of it made any sense and none of it seemed to have anything to do with what was happening to _him_. Something bad, building in the Hellmouth but something bad was _always_ happening there, and it wasn't his problem anymore. _*Still our problem, always our problem, half of our family is there and we can't leave them, won't abandon them -*_

_*I know, I know, I know! Just have to get this sorted, just have to - fix this first. No good if I can't think straight....*_ He deliberately took a deep breath, then another, and pushed himself upright, scooting down the bed a little. "Just a nightmare, fiddler, don't let it bother you." He tugged gently on a handful of dreads - tugged Derio's head over just a little so he could kiss where the fiercely-knit brows made a 'v'. "Just a left-over. Happens sometimes." Derio's hand and Oz's, tight together on Oz's leg, and Xander's hand in the small of his back and he felt the security of their pack as something terribly, frighteningly fragile. "'Bout time for some dinner, yeah?" he asked, and Oz smiled faintly.

"Sure, time for some dinner." _*Love you, safe here,*_ and Oz stood up, pulling Derio with him, out the door and downstairs. Xander scooted up close behind him and wrapped his arms around him again and Spike sighed and leaned into him.

"Don't hide things, love," Xander whispered. "Tell me what I can do?"

"I don't know, pet. I really - don't know. Gonna find out, though." Spike turned his head enough to kiss and they just did that for a moment, lost in the link and the sensation and then Xander pulled away just a little.

"You be careful, all right? I know what you're doing, you know. Just - watch your back. Or better yet, let _me_ watch it." Spike had to laugh, and Xander grinned.

"Not as clever as I thought, am I? No place for you, love, different as you are. You're still too human for most of 'em. I'll be careful. Been careful for almost 150 years - it'll be all right."

Xander studied his face - reached to gently push his hand through Spike's hair. "Just you make sure of that. C'mon, I need a shower. Wanna wash my hair?"

"Want something," Spike murmured, heated look and his hand creeping up Xander's thigh and Xander grinned and pulled him up and out of the bed.

 

Xander puttered around the house, feeling a little bored. Oz and Derio where off doing something at the club Oz worked at - tweaking the sound system to some arcane standard only they knew and understood. And Spike was off hunting, but not for blood. Hunting for a way to _fix_ things. Xander wished he could be with him but over time he'd gotten to understand some things, and this was one: if Spike said it was too dangerous for him, then it _was_ , because Spike knew he could handle himself - had watched him take on vamps and demons and ignorant drunks and vicious not-drunks and win. So it wasn't something Xander was going to argue about, even if he wanted to.

He'd turned on the radio and done a little laundry and cleaned the bathroom. Carved for a while on the figure he was working on. Spike and Derio and Oz, but the way the hyena remembered them from their nights spent on Mt. Rainier. Fluid, animalistic shapes that twisted around each other - _became_ each other. Spike complained that _Xander_ wasn't there and Xander just shrugged. He was making a record of his memories, slowly but surely, in the clean white and green of newly-cut wood and the ashy silver of driftwood and he didn't need himself in the tableaux he was making.

He studied the figures now; about three feet tall, growing upward from a solid base and twining, bending. Oz's wolf-face lean and open-mouthed, Derio's dreads like a ripple of water, Spike's sharply articulated form like a stooping hawk. He needed to clean up the details - take a little more of the base out, because he wanted more of a bowl-shape beneath the figures. But his hands were tired - his fingers getting stiff - and he didn't want to make any mistakes. He tidied his tools away and swept up bits of wood and dust. He moved the figure to the corner where his 'in progress' stuff rested under old sheets. Next to his corner was Spike's desk, and Xander paused for a moment, looking at the notebooks scattered over the surface, and the five heavy, leather-bound journals that were stacked there. Spike had kept journals since before he was turned. Obsessively, as a human, less frequently as a vampire but always a few pages here and there. He'd started keeping a new one soon after Mrs. Kroger's visit, and Xander had seen him in the grey light of dawn poring over his old journals - scribbling feverishly in the notebooks. Trying to remember - to fix it all in his head and let none of it go.

 

_"Come to bed, love," Xander had said, and Spike had looked up at him, his eyes red-rimmed, the link shut down hard but *fear* coming through anyway, like a tiny trickle of ice-water._

_"When Red did that spell, wolfling forgot himself - forgot his humanity. What if I... forget **you** , love? What if I forget...my soul or...my - my -"_

_"Won't happen, Spike. It **won't**." Xander had crossed to him and crouched down beside him - drew Spike's hands into his and held them tight, chaffing the cold fingers between his palms._

_"I could **hurt** you, Xander - I could kill you."_

_"Not with the link, Spike. Not with the claim. It's going to be all right…."_

 

"Gonna be all right," Xander whispered, stacking the notebooks and putting the pens back in the cup - picking up an empty shot glass and taking it to the kitchen. He rinsed the glass out, swaying a little to the music on the radio. A singer he didn't recognize, music that sounded like something from Manny's 'war years'.

_"If the moon turns green and shadows get up and walk around_   
_And clouds come tumbling to the ground_   
_I wouldn't be surprised...'Cause didn’t you fall in love with me…."_

Spike, Oz and Derio were distant hums in the link, _*pack*_ and _*safe*_ and _*love.*_ Xander put the shot glass in the dish drainer - turned to the fridge and got out a bottle of water and had a long drink.

_"If the stars turn blue...and willows that weep begin to sing_   
_And winter changes into spring_   
_I wouldn't raise my eyes...'Cause didn't you fall in love with me…."_

 

The radio fuzzed out suddenly into piercing static that made Xander jump. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and hurried over to it, turning the volume down and then fiddling with the tuner, trying to make the music come back. He got nothing but static, all up and down the dial, and he stared for a moment, perplexed. 

_*No storm tonight, just the usual Seattle drizzle...radio's plugged in although I think it wouldn't make **any** noise if it was unplugged...antenna broken, maybe?*_ Xander poked around for another minute but the music didn't come back, so he switched it off. _*Weird. Have to have Oz give it a look when he gets home.*_ He raised the water bottle to his lips and almost drank but at the last minute _color_ , where no color should be, made him really _look_ at the bottle.

"Oh _fuck_ \- what the hell?" The bottle was filled with something _red_ that Xander refused to identify as blood. _*Jesus, I almost drank that!*_ He held the bottle out at arm's length - tipped it a little. The contents moved sluggishly, as if half-congealed, and he thought he could _smell_ it - rank and old. Grimacing, he found the cap and screwed it on - dropped the whole thing into the garbage. As he did the lights flickered, once and then twice, and went out altogether.

"Oookay," Xander said softly. He could see fine - there was plenty of indirect light for the hyena from the streetlight half a block away and the light reflected from the city that lit the low-hanging clouds to a soft pewter. He looked out the kitchen window, his heart beating a little fast now. The lights were on in the house next door. He checked out other windows and got the same story; every house on the block was lit up except for _their_ house.

"Right....check the breaker box...." Xander needed actual light for this, so he opened the junk drawer and pawed through take-out menus and balls of string - rubber bands, screwdrivers, a couple of Spike's long spiral nails and a baggie of guitar picks for the little 'credit-card' style flashlight they kept in there. He clicked it on, keeping his eyes half-shut and averted until he could adjust to the brilliant lance of white-blue light. He went to the back of the house, to the windowless utility room and pulled open the cover of the breaker box. A minute's flipping switches got him nothing and he sighed and considered going outside, to look at the box where the line came down from the pole on the corner. Xander put his hand on the back door knob and turned - pulled - and nothing happened.

_*What the fuck? It wasn't sticking yesterday, not after I planed the door down a little....*_ Xander wrenched a little harder but the door didn't move. He clicked the little light off and shoved it into his pocket - put both hands on the door and _yanked_ , putting all his claim-bought strength into it. _*Nothing. Fuck.*_ He moved swiftly through the house to the front door, a knot of cold fear blooming in his belly. That door wouldn't open either.

_*Damnit. Okay - calm. Spike?*_ He reached out, feeling for Spike and got...void. That fuzzy blankness of _forgetting_ and that's when the fear slammed into him, kicking his heartbeat up to a gallop and shortening his breath to shallow pants. _*Spike - you hear me love? Spike!*_ Nothing, nothing, and he closed his eyes and felt for Oz and Derio. Again - nothing. A sort of mindless...'we're here' that was the link on autopilot or something, if that were possible. They were _alive_ , but he couldn't reach them.

_*Fuck, okay - calm. Be calm. Gotta get out first, in case it's the house -*_ Xander moved towards the closet under the stairs where the weapons were kept. As he reached for the little door the whole house boomed, shaking and groaning as if it were a giant waking from some thousand-year sleep. Xander reeled and fell backwards in the narrow hall, cracking his head against the boards. The stair-closet door popped and swung slowly open and the radio suddenly went on again, loud and piercingly clear.

_"I can see what the cost will be...You know I don't need you_   
_I just can't put you down...I can see what it all means to me_   
_Honey I don't need you...I just can't put you down_   
_Can't put you down…."_

Something he recognized at top volume and he froze for one second then darted to the kitchen and grabbed the radio - yanked the plug out of the wall. The music kept blaring, scraping on his nerves. Something white moved in the corner of his vision and he spun, gasping.

"Spike?"

"Nope. What, you forget me already?" The radio died - the lights flickered and then came back on with a low buzz and Xander flinched - stared. Black hair, dark eyes. Pointed chin and long legs. Jesse, exactly as he was the night Xander had dusted him and he felt something worse than fear - felt the hideous twist of guilt and shame.

" _Jesse?_ Jesse - what -" Xander slowly put the radio down - took a cautious step forward. _*Spike? Oz! Derio, damnit - can you hear me? This is getting fuckin' weird -*_

"Hey, Xander. Sorry about all that. Happens sometimes." Jesse grinned at him, and Xander grinned back. He couldn't _not_. This was _Jesse_ , who he'd shared a thousand secrets with, and every comic he'd ever bought, and his crush on Theresa Hart in seventh grade and his crush on Buffy.... This was _family_ , like Dawn and Tara were - like Giles and Ethan might become.

"Oh - God. _Jess?_ How - how did you -" Forgetting Jesse was dead - forgetting that he'd been a _vampire_ before that - Xander took three fast steps forward, his hands going out to touch - to hold - to _confirm_. They passed through air that seemed to faintly vibrate - to faintly cling in a way that made Xander shiver. "Oh, you're not -"

"Not corporeal. Bet'cha didn't think I knew a word like that, huh?" Jesse laughed and Xander stepped back, leaning on the kitchen counter and crossing his arms - hugging himself. 

"What are you doing here, Jess? I thought.... I saw you die."

"You _made_ me die, Xan-man," Jesse said, his voice flat and a little cold, and Xander nodded slowly. 

"I - know. I know I did. Jess, I'm -"

"Hey, buddy, don't sweat it. I was _evil_ , you know? Luring you and Buffy to certain death...except it didn't really work out that way, did it?" Jesse walked over to the table, examining the scatter of things there: a pack of dog-eared cards with a blood-stain on the Ace of spades, a handful of guitar strings still in their little paper packages, sheet music with notation scribbled on it in Oz's scratchy script and Derio's tiny, perfect Copperplate. Xander's tool-belt, a fan of loose change, an overflowing ashtray. 

"So, you're up here in Seattle now...left the Hellmouth - left Willow." Jesse looked up from the cards, frowning a little, and Xander nodded again.

"She's not there, though. She -"

"Yeah, I know. She got with the mojo - got all Freddy Kruger or something, huh?" Jesse shrugged - walked back over to stand opposite Xander. "I'm not here to… _accuse_ you of anything, Xander."

"Why _are_ you here? Why not - before? Why now?" Xander reached in the link again and got the same maddening blanks. _*Damnit! Maybe it's not them - maybe it's 'cause Jesse is here...maybe it's me. Fuck, I hope Spike doesn't freak out….*_

"Well, mostly I'm here 'cause I wanted to see you. See...how you are. See what's happened with you since, you know -" Jesse mimed staking himself and Xander looked away. "Dude, I _told_ you - I'm not here to accuse you! I needed to be killed - I was evil and had to die." His voice was sing-songy, too light, and Xander looked sharply at him.

"But you might not have been. I've - learned a lot of things since then. I can _see_ things now, Jess - it's amazing...." Xander told him, in the most edited version possible, of his encounter with Jack, and his gift. Jesse listened, frowning, and when Xander was done he shook his head.

"Now _that_ , see, is why I'm here. What's the deal, Xander? You're a _human_. Why do you live with a _vampire_ and two werewolves? I mean, I'm not _even_ gonna go into the whole 'gay now' thing, 'cause - TMI! But - why are you taking their side?"

" _Side?_ It's not about _sides_ , Jess! If anything, Spike is taking _my_ side! And you knew Oz just like I did. What were we gonna do - kill him? He's _Oz_ , he's...family!!" Xander pushed his fingers back through his hair, incredulous. "I love them, Jess, and they love me. And we've done - a lot of things - a lot of good. Saved the world a time or two."

"Well, that's true. But you're still making exceptions. Vampire - evil - soulless, remember? That's why you shoved a _stake_ through my _heart_ , Xander! That's why you killed me."

"I didn't know, Jess!" Xander wished he could take Jesse and shake him - hold him - and his hand reached out, but then he pulled back, remembering the _wrongness_ that he'd felt. "I mean - all that happened so _fast!_ We met Buffy and a week later I'm fighting for my life with - with vampires! Fuck, man...." Xander looked up at the ceiling for a moment, taking a deep breath, calming down. "I see things differently now, Jesse...I'm - sorry."

"Yeah, sorry. I'm sorry too, Xander. Sorry you didn't give me a chance to _prove_ if I was evil. What if I had a soul just like your Spike? What if _I_ could have saved the world?" Jesse seemed to be getting angrier, and the lights flickered, strobing. He was pacing now, and in the stuttering light his movements became jerky and uncoordinated - out of sync. "It's really too bad you couldn't have waited, huh, Xander? But you just did what you were told, killed your best friend.... And now some… _freak_ gives you this gift? This _seeing?_ And you trust it - you _listen_ to its lies and you trust what you see and now you're _fucking a vampire!_ "

Jesse was screaming - was right up in Xander's face and suddenly the house shook again, groaning rumble of something massive and ancient reverberating through the air. The bulbs in the ceiling light popped, scattering glass over the floor and into Xander's hair. The lights in the living room did the same and the radio blared back to life; hissing static, overlapping layers of screams, groans, shrill screeching like metal being dragged over metal. Jesse seemed to distort, wavering in the air like a heat-mirage and Xander darted away, running through the living room to the front door and trying desperately to wrench it open.

_* **Spike!** Spike, fuck, **please** \- need your help, Oz - Derio!*_ Nothing, nothing, _nothing_ , and Xander stumbled backwards - looked at the window that led out to the front porch. _*Go right through it - probably won't get cut too bad -*_

"You _betrayed_ me, Xander! You chose those _things_ over your human family - you chose them over _Willow!_ " Jesse was roaring - stretching, warping, becoming something else, and Xander stared, horrified. "Something's coming, Xander - something that's worse than anything you've ever seen - ever heard of! It's coming and it's going to swallow the Hellmouth whole and _their_ blood will be on _your hands!_ " The apparition lunged for him, face distorting grotesquely and teeth lengthening to fearsome proportions as it morphed into a twisted parody of a vampire. Xander flung himself aside and the thing _screeched_ , the house shaking and seeming to settle on its foundations with an audible thump. Then utter silence and Xander lay on the floor where he'd thrown himself, panting, shivering violently.

_*Fuck, not Jesse, couldn't be Jesse, oh **God** , oh fuck, please, please -*_ There were footsteps, rapidly approaching, and then a splintering crack and Spike was through the door, shouldering its remains aside and swooping down on him - gathering him close.

The link suddenly _snapped_ open, flooding him with _* **Xander!** Coming, coming - fucking crazy, coming!*_ from Oz and _*Pack, family protect protect protect*_ from Derio. But best - most wanted - was Spike.

_*I'm here, I'm here, I'm here, I've got you, love, I've got you, you're safe, it's all right, safe, safe, family all safe....*_

In the kitchen, the radio came back on, the same song that had been playing when it had all started and Xander knew that it was - something's way - of telling them it wasn't through.

_"If the moon turns green and rivers begin to flow up stream_   
_And this is all a crazy dream, I wouldn't be surprised..._   
_'Cause anything can happen...If you can fall in love with me…."_

 

"So did anything happen to you guys?" Xander was standing over the trashcan, his head bent down so Spike could make sure there was no more glass in his hair from the light bulb. Derio was using a pair of pliers on an unplugged lamp to get the broken stub of a bulb out of the socket and Oz was sweeping up the glass in the kitchen. Spike ran his fingers through Xander's hair one more time.

"All clear, love," he said, and Xander stood up, smiling faintly - caught Spike's hands in his, frowning. Spike glanced at his raw, bloody knuckles and cursed silently.

"What happened, Spike?" Spike shrugged, looking away, and Xander reached out and put his fingers on his jaw - turned his head back. "Love? Please tell me. Was your - was it solid? I couldn't touch - Jesse." The hurt and guilt in the link made Spike sigh, and resign himself to telling everything. He hopped up on the counter behind him and pulled Xander close between his thighs.

"No, mine wasn't any more solid than yours - I took a swing and hit a wall, is all. It - whatever it was - looked like Angel."

"Oh." Xander leaned into him and Spike hugged him. "What - did it say?"

"Bunch of lies," Spike said, too quickly, and Xander looked up at him. "All right, pet, maybe not lies. Seemed to know a bit about me - 'bout my past and what I've been doing."

_*Pack safe,*_ Derio thought, and there was a tinge of hysteria to that. Oz propped the broom in the corner and crossed to him - pulled a chair up close so he could put an arm around him and kiss his hair.

"Yeah, we're safe. We saw - well, up on those screens at the club? There were all these...images. These…." A sudden, disjointed flow of pictures through the link and Xander and Spike both flinched. The family fighting and losing. Those still in Sunnydale being hunted down and imprisoned - tortured and tormented and _used_. The world becoming a pit - a hell - and all of it starting from a Hellmouth that gaped like the maw of Leviathan. A creeping plague of misery and death that rolled out from one place, unstoppable. And their family - _Buffy_ \- paraded bloody and broken before the hordes as the bringers of it all, the champions who had lost and doomed the world.

"Jesus Christ," Xander whispered faintly, and they all huddled there in silence. Derio had his head on Oz's shoulder and Oz was whispering - rubbing his neck. Spike felt the fear and despair in the link - the guilt and confusion - and he shook his head, snarling.

"No, _no_. We're not giving in to this, hear me? This bloody spook wants to scare us and beat us down - wants to make us too afraid to _fight_. Not going to happen." _* **Family**. We're here, we're together, we're **strong**. Pack - family - nest. Love you **all**.*_ Spike flooded the link - pushed the black mood and his own fears - his own nightmares - aside and let his love, his pride, his need and his desire - his _wanting_ \- roll over his family like a wave. Pull them under, inundate them, fill them and send them back to the surface, buoyed up by everything he felt, everything he was and everything they made him. Xander's arms came around him and hugged him _hard_ , and Oz pulled Derio up and they crowded close, affirming the emotion through their fingertips and their noses and their mouths. After a few minutes the desperation went out of them and they just rested there against each other.

"It all seems to be - centering - on Sunnydale. We need to talk to Tara and Buffy," Oz said finally, and Xander nodded against Spike's neck - pulled back a little, wiping his eyes.

"Yeah, you're right. They might have already heard this - might have a handle on it."

"Bit late for calls - we'll do it in the morning, yeah?" Spike wanted _*close family never leave*_ and the hyena and wolves all wanted _*den nest safe together.*_ They spent the rest of the night on the pull-out bed, just being together. Strengthening their bond, soothing each other and trying to rest. 

 

Spike paced, smoking too much and feeling like he wanted to gut something. It wasn't helping Derio, who kept shifting a little to the wolf and back, and it wasn't helping Xander, who was trying to find Buffy. Oz just watched, one hand on Derio's back, rubbing in soothing circles, and _*calm, we're safe, calm, calm,*_ like honey being poured over their souls.

"Okay Manny - I appreciate it. Thanks." Xander hung up and shook his head, sighed, and Spike ground out his cigarette and went to sprawl beside him on the couch. "She called in sick today - I don't know what the deal is. Dawn's not answering, but she should be in school so she better _not_ be answering, and Tara might be in class too.... Maybe we should call Giles?" Xander twitched ever so slightly as Spike tugged at his arm and then he gave in and slumped over, his head on Spike's shoulder.

"Let's give it a little time, huh Xan? See if she calls back." Oz's voice was as slow and soothing as his mental chant and Xander nodded, closing his eyes.

"Yeah, okay. We'll -" Then the phone rang. Xander snatched it up - turned it on. "Hello? Buffy, thank God -"

"Xander, there's trouble. You've got to come back to Sunnydale."

Xander looked up at the others, and Spike saw the dismay on his face - saw the shock and the worry and then saw, with a sinking feeling, the resolve.

_*Fuck, fuck, fuck. Damn pit is gonna drag us back no matter what we do. This had better be something real. Fucking Hellmouth. Not gonna get my family.*_

 

 

_____________________  
Paul Whiteman - _If the Moon Turns Green_  
Alice in Chains - _Put You Down_


	17. Discoveries

Spike stood at the back door, watching the sun set. The sun itself had sunk behind a narrow band of clouds and the intervening buildings, and posed no danger. The sky was shifting from azure and crimson and saffron to plum and pomegranate and old, mellow gold. Xander was behind him, warm as the sun, solid; his arms were tight around Spike's ribs - his chin rested lightly on Spike's shoulder. Oz and Derio, in much the same pose, stood beside them and the link - for the moment at least - pulsed with contentment and love and _*family pack family,*_ heart-beat deep and strong as bone. The van and the truck both stood ready at the curb - the house was shuttered, turned off, closed down. Going back. They were going back.

 _*Love you so much,*_ from Xander, that internal petting that soothed even the demon. _*We're going to be fine. Going to come home soon.*_

 _*Promise me, love, promise me….*_ Spike couldn't even finish that thought, and Xander's arms tightened around him - held him somehow closer.

_*Never leave you, never let you go.*_

_*Protect protect protect...love you all,*_ and that was Derio, whose emotions were stronger in the link than Oz - more volatile. A creature of the heart and he'd already apologized for it again and again, until they'd pounced and held him down and overwhelmed him with their own feelings.

 _"It'll settle, you'll see,"_ Spike had told him, and he'd sniffed and nodded - hugged the vampire hard, struggling to control what he put through the link - struggling and failing until Oz showed him some of the meditations he'd learned. It helped - enough to make Derio relax and not _worry_ so much about being too loud - too much for them. 

The colors of the sky had deepened further - ash and bruise-blue and the sullen red of a banked ember. The moon was to the right of them, new and thin as a sickle-blade, and a few bright stars could be seen against the glow of city lights. Mid-October and the air coming in the open door was edged with frost, heavy with recent rain. The scents of the water - of woodsmoke, wet earth, and the cinnamon-clove spice of dead leaves - was intoxicating and Spike breathed it all in - felt a wrench in his heart as if it were alive.

 _*Won't be like this there, won't be like this at all...don't want to go, don't want to go....*_ He knew he sounded like a petulant child but he couldn't help it. Even the gaping hole that Dawn and Tara's absence had made couldn't make him _want_ to go. 

Xander pressed his mouth to Spike's jaw - rubbed his cheek slowly back and forth, murmuring in his ear. "It'll be all right, love, it'll be all right... Promise we'll be extra-careful."

"Sorry, Xander," he whispered, miserable, and the Oz-Derio huddle shuffled closer, leaning into him - into Xander - adding heat and weight and strong arms, adding _*safe love you pack pack pack.*_ "Won't let any sodding thing happen to us, yeah? We'll come home soon."

" _Dios travesia_ protect us," Derio murmured, and _*don't take them off, never take them off.*_ Xander's fingers went up to the beads Spike still wore, green and black for the warrior-loa. Spike could, very faintly, feel the similar beads Xander wore pressing into his back; creator-loa for his boy, frisson of power that made them that much _more_ , in the link and out.

 _*No, never take them off,*_ Spike thought, and he sighed. 

"We should go. Twelve hours to Point Reyes," Oz said, and Derio murmured agreement. They were going to take the coast roads down - stop somewhere in Point Reyes Park as close to the shore as possible and have one more night that was just them, just family. One more night of peace.

 _*Going now...we'll be back soon....*_ Xander thought, comfort for them all and Spike finally turned and took his gaze off the horizon - off the beloved Waterway and the wooded ridges, the miles of shoreline that the family had explored under the silvering moon-light.

 _*Going now.*_ Spike pulled Xander close again - kissed him lingeringly.

"Back in a week or so, Spike," Xander said, sad in the link but hopeful as well and Spike had to smile at him - at his eternal optimism and the stubborn, unflinching loyalty that wouldn't let him abandon his friends. "Say me a travel-poem, Spike. Do you know any?" Xander asked, and Spike thought for a moment, then nodded, finding something pretty for his boy even if his heart wasn't in it.

 _"There is something in the autumn that is native to my blood - touch of manner, hint of mood;_  
_and my heart is like a rhyme, with the yellow and the purple and the crimson keeping time._  
_The scarlet of the maples can shake me like a cry of bugles going by. And my lonely spirit thrills to_  
_see the frosty asters like a smoke upon the hills._  
_There is something in October sets the gypsy blood astir; we must rise and follow here, when from_  
_every hill of flame she calls and calls each vagabond by name."_

 

The bone-deep disturbance that was the Hellmouth came over them ten miles out and Spike stiffened in the seat beside him - clenched his fingers down tight on his knees and Xander flinched, too. Living on the Hellmouth, you got used to it. He wondered if he'd ever get used to it again.

 _*Be okay,*_ he thought at Spike, and Spike sighed and shifted - leaned over into him a little and just rested there. His misery was palpable in the link for all his efforts to lock it down and for the hundredth time Xander wondered if he was doing the right thing. But his conversation with Buffy kept coming back to him, and he knew he'd had to come. _Had_ to.

 

_"Xander - it's bad. We haven't heard from Giles in two weeks. And all kinds of freaky things are happening here. Dawn and some other kids were attacked at the school - there were these...ghosts or something. And I've been having dreams.... Girls are dying, all over the world. Girls who are - who could be Slayers. Something is hunting them down and killing them and I'm **seeing** it, Xander, every night. Angel - said he would help. Said he'd look into prophecies, stuff like that. And Anya - she's doing what she can with her demon contacts. But I need you here, Xander. And I need Spike. I don't know what's going on but…. It's big. Bigger than I can handle alone."_

 

That admission right there had scared Xander, even if he wouldn't own up to it. Buffy - had never wanted back up. Had always seen her role as the Slayer clearly - a role she had to play alone. And she'd hated dragging her friends into her life of death and danger, and she'd hated not being _enough_ when she'd failed, and people had died. For her to admit she needed help, for her to have called Angel - called _him_ \- and asked for Spike.... Made him go cold.

 

_"I talked to Wesley - he can't raise anybody on the Council. It's - all wrong. And these girls that I'm dreaming...they're dreaming **me** , Xander. They're dreaming me and they're coming to find me and...I don't know what to do with them! They're so **young** , and they're not Slayers - they don't have any power. I’m so afraid - God, I'm so afraid they're all going to die. Please come - please help us. We need all of you, Xander...please."_

 

So back to the beginning, back to the nexus of it all and Xander was hating every mile they put between themselves and their home - was hating every minute that he had to sacrifice to an uncaring universe. And down inside, where he wouldn't admit it and where he refused to let Spike or Oz or Derio see, he was utterly terrified. Spike turned his head a little and kissed his neck - kissed his jaw and then settled again, the link tight-strung and Oz somewhere behind humming his chant into it, doing his best to keep them all calm and together because that flying-apart feeling of Spike's was getting worse, and the Hellmouth vibe was pushing them all over the edge.

He'd even called Manny, to just _ask_ \- to see if there was anything he should know, and Manny had told him they were shutting down - packing up. When the city had begun to rebuild the high school on the old, bombed-out site he'd flatly refused to be a part of it and now he was selling out, and taking every last member of his family with him.

_"Something's coming, filho. Something bad. We can all feel it, we demons. Everyone's leaving however they can. You shouldn't come back, credo. You should stay far away."_

But he couldn't, and even with the soldier telling him to cut his losses and get out, and the hyena so on edge he had to struggle for control, he was going back. Spike put his hand on Xander's where it rested on the gear-shift, slight pressure and slow rub of his fingertips.

_*My knight in patchwork armor...I love you more than I've loved anything in my long life, Xander, and I will do anything to make sure we come out of this alive. Anything. Don't stand in my way, love, don't try and stop me. It's down to family now and nothing else.*_

_*I understand. I really do, vampire-mine. But you have to help me, love. I can't do this alone.*_

_*Never leave you alone, my love, my own. Never.*_

The _'Welcome to Sunnydale'_ sign loomed in the headlights and for once Xander gave in to the devil's voice in his mind and he rammed it, full speed. Spike laughed.

 

Buffy's house was lit like a Christmas tree and they all sat for a moment in their vehicles, just staring at it. Then they got out, stretching a bit, feeling anxious. Spike lit a cigarette and tugged Xander close to him, shivering a little and Xander slipped his arm around him and hugged. Then the door was slamming open and Dawn was pelting down the steps - across the lawn - launching herself straight at them, babbling a mile a minute and hugging Spike, then hugging Xander so hard he gasped for breath.

 _*Family pack family home home home,*_ from all of them, feeling a missing piece slot neatly into place as Dawn once again entered the link, a formless joy coming from her that made them all smile.

"You came! Oh, God, you came! I'm so glad, I missed you so much - I've been going crazy without you guys here! It's been getting really creepy, it's been - Oz, your hair is so cool! Oh God -" Dawn finished off with Derio, kissing him soundly on the cheek and then she stood there, panting, staring at them.

 _*Brothers love happy happy happy*_ in the link, stronger than before. "Well, come _on!_ Don't just stand there, come in! You're not gonna believe this -" Dawn bounced up the sidewalk, grinning, chattering about sleeping arrangements and grocery runs and they just followed her, bewildered. Went inside and Spike grinned when it was clear his invitation was still in place. Then his grin faltered because there was.... _something...._

 _*What the hell? What's....*_ Xander was standing very close, feeling the tension through the link - tension that was seeping out to Oz and Derio and they all just stopped, staring. There were sleeping bags everywhere. Duffels, backpacks, heaps of laundry. An overpowering _girl_ smell that was fruity and sweet and medicinal and under all tinged with blood. And that tickle - that little twitch....

"Hey, guys," Buffy said, coming out from the kitchen and Spike blinked at her. She was thinner than before - dark circles under her eyes. Behind her was a crowd of girls and they were all giving off the same low-watt buzz that Buffy projected in spades.

"Christ, Slayer, you said...I didn't expect this," Spike finished softly, and Buffy smiled a little.

"Even I can feel it," she said, and walked over to them - reached out and pulled Xander into a Slayer-strength hug, almost lifting him off his feet. "Thanks for coming," she whispered.

Xander hugged her back. "No problem, Buffy."

Buffy drew back - looked at Spike for one long moment. "Don't even think about it, Slayer," he snapped, and her eyes went wide and then she started laughing.

"Oh, God, I've missed you, Spike!" She shook her head and grabbed Oz and Derio, hugging them too, then she turned to the girls who were hovering in the doorway still. Dawn was off to one side, looking expectant, exuding _*amusement*_ and a sort of smugness.

"Girls - these are.... Well, these guys are family."

Spike felt the shock of that through the link and glanced at Xander, who was staring at Buffy, smiling. 

_*Family. God...she really…?*_

_*Seems so, pet. Good on her, yeah?*_

"This is Xander, and Oz, and Derio..." Buffy continued, pointing. They all nodded to the girls, Derio slipping his arms around Oz, still disturbed in the link from the Slayer-buzz that was too strong in the house. "And that's...Spike."

"And he's a vampire." A girl - dark-haired and intense looking - stepped forward.

"Yup. He's one of the nastiest vamps you'll ever meet." Buffy grinned sideways at Spike, who snorted.

"Why, Slayer. Didn't know you cared," Spike smirked, and the girl frowned.

"What the hell is he doing in the house?"

Spike watched the girl - felt the shiver of energy off of her and he shot a sardonic look at Buffy, one eyebrow going up. "So - these are the Slayer-wanna-be's, yeah?"

" _Potentials_ , and even if I'm not a full-fledged Slayer it's still my job to dust vamps." The dark-haired girl moved forward, bristling, a stake appearing in her hand and Spike barked a short laugh.

 

_*Fuck. What does this little idiot think she's doing, exactly?*_

_*I dunno, but Buffy looks like she's about to explode.*_ Xander leaned back against the door-frame and Oz and Derio walked casually over to Dawn, getting her to sit down on the couch with them. Oz looked - a little baffled.

_*They seem pretty tightly wound. Didn't Buffy say - anything? About - us?*_

_*Guess we'll find out, wolf.*_ Spike puffed on his smoke, tracking the girl's slow stalk. The other three girls - all looking about sixteen or younger - watched nervously from the doorway. Buffy had a smile on her face, a sort of 'you're gonna eat crow' smile that Spike rather liked.

 _*I'm thinkin' this girl is a pain in the Slayer's arse.*_ Spike blew a stream of smoke at the girl, who flinched a little. "Your job? Your job is stay out of my way, snack-pack. You've got a lot to learn."

"My name's _Kennedy_ ," the girl snarled.

"Don't actually care. Slayer - you need her or can I -" Spike vamped, grinning, and there was a collective gasp from the girls. Kennedy's hand flexed around her stake and she shot a quick look at Buffy.

"You just let him in here and then - you're just gonna -"

" _You're_ the one who keeps telling me you wanna see some action. Go on and get some," Buffy said, and Spike snickered at the little twist of utter _bitch_ in her voice.

 _*Oh yeah, **big** pain in the Slayer's arse.*_ "C'mon then, sweet. I'll bet you're a real goer, when you get started...wanna give me a try?" Spike did his best leer - his best bedroom voice and Kennedy screeched and flew across the room, stake raised. _*Don't even really feel like playing,*_ he thought. He neatly sidestepped the girl and snatched her around the throat - brought her up sharply, one arm going up between her breasts and holding her shoulder in a vise-like grip, the other tangled in her hair, yanking her head over hard. Her stake-arm was trapped under his and she was tight against his body, her throat inches from his fangs. He carefully took his cigarette out of his mouth, trying not to singe her hair because _God!_ the stink of that. He lowered his mouth - let the tips of his incisors prickle over the thunder of arterial blood.

"What'cha think, Slayer? Thumb up or thumb down?"

"Hey! Don't! Buffy, please - " A blonde girl turned to the Slayer, her mouth wobbling, and Buffy rolled her eyes.

"Sheesh, Eve. I'm not gonna let him eat her. Much."

Spike grinned - grazed the fear-clammy skin with his teeth and held the girl against her buck of sheer, mindless terror. Then he pushed her hard away, dragging the stake from her hand and snapping it in two. " _Your_ job is to _die_ if you don't get a whole fucking lot better, wanna-be. You've got a job on your hands with this lot, Slayer."

"Son of a _bitch!_ " Kennedy touched her neck and then looked in horror at the blood on her hand. She ran upstairs, followed by Eve and a black girl. Another girl - tall and thin and with a look of toughness about her, stayed in the doorway, arms crossed.

"Wow. So - you're Spike," she said, and Spike looked at her. "I'm Amanda."

"Another wanna-be, I take it." He pinched the butt out and pocketed it, ignoring the little wince that got from the girl.

"Potential is the PC term," Dawn called, and Spike laughed. The tension in the room eased a bit and he reached out for Xander's hand and tugged him over to the couch - pushed Dawn into Oz and sat down, dragging Xander half onto his lap.

"What's going on, Buffy? These are the girls you've been dreaming about, right? I thought - you were gonna send them on their way?" Xander squirmed around so he could face Buffy and Spike made a low growling noise, nuzzling into Xander's hair.

_*Stop that, evil undead. Let me talk.*_

_*This place is gettin' on my nerves, love.*_

_*I know. Sit tight, okay?*_ Xander caught his wandering hands and held them tight and Spike gave in and just hugged him close.

"I wanted to - I _tried_ to...." Buffy sank down into a chair and sighed, elbows on knees. "They just keep coming. One of them...Annabelle... She got really spooked after...well, after they were attacked. She ran and...they got her."

"Who got her?" Spike asked, and Amanda came to sit on the floor next to Buffy, back straight.

"These nasty little troll-guys," she muttered, and Buffy shook her head.

"They're - they're called Bringers. They're these guys all in black. No - eyes. It's kinda gross. They're the things that have been killing the girls in my dreams. And - Annabelle. They were around before. When...." Buffy sighed, and looked down at her hands for a moment. "When Angel tried to kill himself, it was the First Evil. It had these - Bringers. They're back. _It_ is back. That's what's been making all this freaky stuff happen and...it was the First that was in your house, Xander. It can look like - anyone dead. It looked like...."

"It looked like mom," Dawn said, tiny voice, and Oz slipped his arm around her, hugging her.

"You all right then, Bit?" Spike asked, and Dawn nodded.

"It said some pretty - freaky stuff." Buffy looked at her sister, sympathy and anger warring in her expression. "It was scary but we figured out it was just lying. Trying to trick us. Like it did to Angel. Like Jesse - like the _fake_ Jesse did to you, Xander."

"Fuck," Xander muttered, and Spike thought about the Angelus he'd talked to, down on the docks. The Angelus that had, at first, made sense. Had been so _perfect_ that he'd.... Well, nothing to dwell on now.

"So - any clues about how to take it out?" Spike asked, and Buffy shook her head. 

"We were hoping Giles would...but we can't _find_ Giles, and the Council seems to have just - vanished and even Willow isn't communicating. It's like - we're all alone."

"No - not alone," Xander said softly, and Buffy smiled at him - at them all.

"No - not anymore."

 

The sound of a car outside and thundering footsteps on the stairs made them all look up as the Potentials came back down. "Groceries," Amanda said, standing up and moving towards the door with the rest and Dawn groaned and stood also.

"They've got _some_ super-strength - I should be exempt from heavy lifting, I'm the brains!" she moaned.

" _Solum in somniis_ , Niblet," Spike said, and Dawn made a face and trooped out

"What did you say?" Buffy asked, and Spike smirked.

"Basically, 'in your dreams', Slayer," he answered, and she laughed.

"She's doing good with the Latin - she's been keeping up with it. And Greek and couple of demon languages she tells me are the Swahili of the demon world, whatever that means."

"Means most everybody speaks 'em," Spike said, but he wasn't paying attention to Buffy anymore and neither was anybody else. Spike felt the surge of recognition and joy in the link and then the four of them were off the couch and across the room, crowding as close as they could get to Tara, who stood there with a string-bag of oranges in her hands and tears in her eyes.

 _*Greenwitch lightwitch mother Glinda love you love her keep always keep....*_ Spike knew Tara wasn't part of the link but he also knew she could see their auras, and the way she looked at them - the fierce clutch of her arms around them - told him that some sense of their feelings - of her _belonging_ \- was known to the lovely woman who made them all feel as if they'd finally come home.

"God, Tara - missed you," Xander murmured, brushing her cheek with his hand. Oz kissed her other cheek, his eyes shining with happiness and Derio hugged her from behind, taking in a deep breath of her scent of nutmeg and clean earth, dill and thyme and lavender. Spike simply gathered her up in a hard hug, lifting her off her feet and burying his face in her hair and he felt her lips on his jaw for a moment.

"Oh - I can't believe - you're really here -" She wobbled, set back on her feet, and wiped at a stray tear and then the Potentials were pushing through the door, loaded down with groceries and Kennedy was scowling at Spike. He vamped, snarling at her then turned his back and they all led Tara to the couch - made her sit down and then grouped themselves around her.

 _*God, missed her - need her back. This has to change, have to fix this - when we kill this First she has to come home with us,*_ Xander thought, and Spike took his hand, squeezing gently.

 _*Do our best, pet,*_ he thought, and there was silent agreement from Oz and Derio.

"Have you been here long? Has Buffy t-told you everything?" Tara asked, smoothing her skirt and taking Oz's hand and Xander's and Buffy laughed.

"You guys look like some old-fashioned family portrait." She cocked her head to one side and a slightly wistful look came into her eyes.

"Family, Slayer. You know what that's like."

"Yeah....I guess I do," Buffy said, glancing over at Dawn who was gathering shampoo and toilet paper and other things to take to the upstairs bathroom. "No, they've only been here a half hour or less, Tara, and I haven't had much chance to -" A knock interrupted her and she frowned - stood up and went to the front door. "Who in the world -" She opened the door and Spike caught a glimpse of two pale, girlish faces and then a glint of steel and glass and Buffy was just standing there, frozen. Then flung herself forward, shouting 'Giles!'

 

 

__________________  
_filho_ \- son  
_credo_ \- loved one  
Bliss Carman - _A Vagabond Song_  
_Solum in somniis_ \- Only in dreams


	18. Plans

They didn't sleep that night. The Potentials, including three new ones that Giles and Ethan had found, were shown the bathroom, introduced and then shooed into the living room where they talked quietly with the others, TV on, shooting looks into the kitchen that 'The Scoobies' ignored. Xander eyed the close quarters and knew something had to be done about it - but later. First, they had to talk. He and Spike and Derio and Oz hauled in lawn chairs from the porch and Buffy gathered up mis-matched dining room chairs that she'd found at a garage sale so they could all squeeze around the kitchen table, knees bumping and elbows poking. Tara and Dawn were firmly set between the wolves and Spike and Xander. Dawn had put the kettle on and Giles and Ethan had opened their luggage and were hauling out a huge stash of contraband goodies.

"Jeez! What'd you guys do, rob a grocery store?" Xander asked, shuffling through various brightly colored boxes and tins.

"We were shopping when - when we had to leave. Let's get some tea made and then we'll tell you what happened." Giles sounded tired - depressed - and Ethan stroked his back gently for a moment and then slid something across to Spike.

"Ripper said you liked these," he grinned, and Spike eyed the tube of Jaffa Cakes with barely-concealed delight.

"Ta ever so, Watcher - can't find these here too easy." He was already picking at the end, undoing them, when Giles opened up a package of tea. The scent of it filled the air - heavy, smoky, and rich.

"What'dja get, Spike -what's _that_ , Giles, it smells -"

"It smells nice," Tara said, and Giles smiled at her.

"It's tea, Dawn. Souchong, to be precise."

"Bring enough to share, then?" Spike mumbled, his mouth full of cake. Xander snagged one out of his hand.

"Only if _you_ share."

"Oh, plenty for all -" Giles dumped another armful of things and they spent the next ten minutes fixing tea, getting glasses of milk or juice, and sorting through the goodies.

"Wow, one of you has a sweet tooth," Buffy said, opening a box of Cadbury's 'Heroes' and peering inside at the display of mixed chocolate candies.

"That would be Ripper." Ethan was opening some crackers and spreading Marmite with gleeful abandon. Dawn was watching him closely, her new favorite - 'Kipling's French Fancies' - held close to her chest, out of Buffy's reach. Ethan seemed to be his old self; a little heavier, a little tanned, a sparkle of mischief in his eye. His magic was back, only now it was a fairly pleasant low-grade tingle that you could feel only when you were very, very close to him. Nothing like the out-of-control seething that had so set Spike and Derio on edge and Xander was grateful for that

"I was just thinking that you girls would like some treats," Giles said, but his voice was still so tired - so soft. He only picked at the lavish spread.

"Oh! Sandwich time." Oz was looking delightedly at a jar of Green's Mango Chutney and another of Branston Pickle. "You'll like this, Derio," he added, holding the chutney out for inspection and Derio read the label with interest. He was nibbling a cracker spread with the strong, salty marmite, trying to decide if he liked it. Dawn, Tara, Buffy, and Oz had all rejected the spread already. 

"I got some roast beef and stuff at the store." Tara hastily wiped chocolate off her lips and got up to help Oz raid the refrigerator, and Spike rummaged for his flask and poured a bit in his tea. Xander had tried it _before_ it was adulterated with whisky and decided he'd like it iced and sugared better. The looks of shocked horror on the three expatriates' faces had made him laugh.

"Okay, so...we've stuffed our faces - and my _God_ this is good!" Buffy crunched her last bit of toast and ginger preserve and licked her fingers. "Now we really need to know what's going on. First, though - where's Willow? Is she coming?"

Giles paused for a moment, tea-cup halfway to his mouth. "Willow...is still with the Coven, Buffy. She - wasn't ready to leave."

"They wouldn't _let_ her leave," Ethan chimed in, and Giles glanced sharply at him but nodded.

"So - she's not coming back? Ever?" Dawn asked, and Giles reached out and patted her hand.

"Now, I didn't say that, Dawn. She's simply not able to come back _yet_. Her magic became very unstable when she -"

"When she killed that guy and tried to kill Xander, yeah. Is she gonna go to prison?" Giles blinked at Dawn and Spike chuckled, but Xander could feel the tension from Oz - and his own unease - at the thought of Willow in prison.

_*Maybe she **should** , though...she did murder him -*_

_*Him who'd already killed once and tried to do it again? No, Red-witch got **that** right, if nothing else.*_ Spike was firm in his opinion that Warren had got what he deserved - had, in fact, lucked out completely because he hadn't suffered anything like what he would have suffered under William the Bloody.

"Be glad she's not here, Bit. She's done enough, don't you think?"

"Spike -" Buffy looked like she wanted to argue - or tell Spike to shut up - but Tara put her hand on Buffy's wrist, stopping her.

"He's right, Buffy. Even if it's n-not what we want to hear. She let it - control her and she thought she could ignore the warnings. H-Here especially - that's deadly."

"The coven has, for all intents and purposes, stripped her of most of her magic. Nothing that wasn't done willingly!" Giles held his hand up to forestall Buffy and she slumped in her chair. "They can't actually take her magic away - it's a part of her, just like your powers as the Slayer are a part of you. But with her consent they - bound her ability to use it. She's - going back to the beginning and relearning things the way she - she should have. If I had paid attention and taught her." Giles looked down at his tea-cup, defeat and sorrow evident in the slump of his shoulders, and Ethan leaned into him, comforting silently.

"When were you supposed to do _that_ , Giles? When the Master was trying to kill us all or when the Mayor was or when _Angelus_ was? I mean, I can see the huge gaps in your schedule where nothing was going on and you could have spent hours with Willow." Xander was angry but he struggled to keep the anger at a low level, hating the thought of Giles blaming himself for what Willow had done.

_*He will **not** feel guilt over this! Willow didn't have to do any of the things she did and I am **not** going to let him think it's all his fault!*_

_*Probably won't change how he feels, love.*_

_*I have to try.*_

"Xander, I... I may not have had - a lot of free time, but I should have paid more attention -"

"Don't do that, Giles. Please don't make yourself to blame. You aren't - none of us think that." Buffy's voice was soft but Giles flinched as if she'd shouted at him and sighed - looked up at them all.

"I'm afraid I shall always feel - a certain responsibility - for what she did."

"Waste of your time, mate, and you know it. You got her out of here and away from the family and that's all that matters." Spike wasn't in the least concerned about Giles' guilt - that was glaringly obvious in the link - but he didn't like Xander's distress, a distress Oz shared. "And natterin' on about it won't help. She's not here, can't help us, that's all we need to know. Why are you two here like gypsies with those girls in tow and about three sets of clothes between you?" Giles blinked and glanced over at Ethan, who raised an eyebrow.

"He's right, really. More important things to talk about, Ripper."

"Yes...all right...well - you know about the Bringers? And that - they're killing potential Slayers all over the world?" The group nodded, settling in to listen. Xander leaned over into Spike, anticipating the strong arm that came around him and sighing in contentment. Dawn back in the link, and Tara _there_ and not there, as well - some sort of ripple in the air that wasn't quite the same but that was _her_ , without doubt. It felt good - felt _right_ \- and even the Slayer-buzz had been pushed to the background as the girls had dropped off to sleep and they'd concentrated on other things.

_*At least Willow's safe,*_ Xander couldn't help thinking, and Spike pressed his mouth into Xander's hair and kissed him. Maybe Willow wasn't his best friend anymore, but he didn't want another Hellmouth casualty in his memories, either.

 

"The Council headquarters is gone and...so are most of its members. I'm sure there are a few, here and there, who survived but...." Giles took his glasses off and rubbed his eyes tiredly - rested his forehead on his palm for a moment. "We have feelers out, contacts in the occult world and...other places. Hopefully we can find what's left. For all intents and purposes, the Council is no more. Even if we start it again - it will never be the same." He sighed and straightened and put his glasses back on. The rest of them sat in silence, contemplating his story. The Council _gone_ , and so many potentials dead.... The Bringers had tried to kill Giles and Ethan, as well, as they'd gathered the three girls they'd known of and fled to the Hellmouth.

_*Not bad that the bloody Watchers are gone, though. Bastards have been hounding me and mine for too long.*_ Spike, of course, would find the blood-red lining in any cloud, and Xander had to smile at him.

"The First believes it will be unstoppable if it kills every member of the Slayer line...and it could very well succeed if we do not find a solution, and soon. Its resources, I'm afraid, are vast." Giles looked around the table and Xander did, as well. Shock and fear and resignation on all the faces, except for Spike who was carefully blank, smoking a cigarette and leaning back in his chair. Ethan leaned over and picked up a battered rucksack and upended it on the table. Several books, manuscripts and loose papers slid out, mixing with the crumbs of McVitie's Dark Chocolate Digestives and Fry's Peppermint Cream wrappers.

"This is all that's left. Ripper and I - we broke into the Council headquarters two nights before it was destroyed."

"Well aren't _you_ the little Artful Dodgers," Spike murmured, and Ethan grinned at him, his fox-smile swift and toothy and full of glee.

"Oh, since the coven fixed my magic it was laughably easy. We took everything we could find on the First."

"This is everything?" Buffy was poking at the meager pile and Tara had opened a book and was paging through it, frowning.

Dawn leaned over to look and smiled. "Hey! I can read that! _In hoc est vera et fidilis fabula...._ Herein is written the true and accurate history...." Dawn frowned and bit her lip. " _...cuius quod non possidit nomen…_ of that which has no name…. Oh… _quod antequam veniebat, quod primum erat. Manui sacra scripta…_ of that which came before, of that which is the First. As recorded by her sacred hand...." Dawn looked up, eyes wide. "Wow." There was a moment of silence and then Giles cleared his throat, making an effort.

"Very nicely done, Dawn. You've been keeping up with your studies, I see." Giles smiled softly at her, pleased, and she smiled back.

"Yeah. I call Spike and he helps me sometimes and - and Tara and I have been emailing with Wesley and Fred."

"Wesley? How nice of him to help. I don't think I've met this 'Fred' person?" Giles got up and poured more hot water, fussing with the tea-ball.

"No, Fred's a girl. She helps Wes and everybody. She - well, it's a long story but Fred's really smart. Her and Tara chat for hours."

"Do you now, Glinda?" Spike asked, mouth curling up and eyebrow cocked and the four of them could smell the intense blood-scent as Tara blushed behind her hair. Her presence - her _aura_ \- rippled around them.

"She was in a h-hell dimension for five years and she's kind of shy so I talk to her. She's really smart - she knows all about c-chemistry and - and physics and stuff." Dawn looked over at Spike and mouthed _'crush'_ at him and Spike winked at her.

"You'll have to invite her up, Glinda, once we deal with this so-called First. Have her meet the family." Tara gaped at him and then snatched her own tea-cup and fled to the sink.

_*Not nice, vampire-mine.*_

_*Not **bad**. You know she'd want us to meet her fancy.*_

_*You don't know that she - fancies - Fred!*_ Spike snorted, fishing for another cigarette.

_*I think she likes this Fred a lot,*_ Oz thought, and Xander sighed, shaking his head but smiling, too.

"Yes, well, perhaps we _will_ get to meet this - Fred person. Someone from L.A. is going to be coming up in a few days and - and they'll be bringing Faith.

" _What?_ But she's in prison!" Buffy hastily lowered her voice after the first loud word, casting a glance into the living room. The Potentials slept on.

"And Angel is getting her out. The First can get inside of there as easily as it can anywhere else, and I believe we need as much strength as possible to fight it. Wesley has...come to an understanding with her, and he was happy to tell me that she very much regrets - everything."

"She'd better," Buffy grumbled, snatching a piece of chocolate-covered honeycomb from the Hero box and biting it in half.

"Now - in further news...." Giles sat back down and stared at the flask that Spike was holding out - took it finally and poured a large dollop into his tea-cup. "Thank you. Oh - Ethan, yes -" Ethan took the flask and did the same, except his tea-cup was empty and he poured quite a bit more. Spike growled. 

"Now - you're all right," Ethan muttered. He bent over his suitcase again and pulled out a bottle which Spike snatched with a hiss of triumph.

_*Ah! Glenfiddich - and Cask Strength!*_ "Ta, mage," Spike said, cracking the seal.

" _In further news,_ " Giles said, a little louder, and Xander snickered. It was feeling like one of the Scooby meetings from so long ago. The jangled nerves and frayed tempers and _fear_ that had been a part of their lives since they'd decided to come back were all slowly ebbing away.

_*We're tired, we're stuffed with chocolate and we're...a little hysterical. But yeah...feels good.*_ Oz - who was probably the furthest from hysterical anyone could possibly get - smiled over at Xander, his hand unconsciously twisting one of Derio's dreads between his fingers.

_*Feels good, yeah. Family,*_ Derio chimed in, and Xander nodded.

"Ethan and I have discussed this and we have decided that the best people to help us gather up Potentials and surviving Council members, and deal with the Headquarters, would be Drake's family. In fact, before we left England we contacted Arthur Pembroke - his grandfather - and arranged for him to begin excavating the Council building. With luck they'll be able to salvage...something."

"How are they going to find Potentials, Giles?" Buffy asked, and Giles smiled slightly.

"The Council had actually found a spell that could locate them and had been using it. It was pure luck that I stumbled across it while we were gathering our information on the First. We used it to find the three we brought with us, and then gave various family members the location of others. They're so widely spread, really, that it's much easier for them to go where the girls are then to send just one or two people shuttling all over the globe."

"Wow. So we've got a whole army of people out there...do they know about the Bringers, Giles? Do they know - they're in danger?" Giles looked at Xander over the tops of his glasses, and _*darkman*_ was in that stare.

"I made it quite clear what we were up against. They are...prepared. Apparently being an archaeologist isn't as - academic a pursuit as you might imagine."

"Hey, don't have to tell _me_ \- I watched all the Indiana Jones movies," Xander said, and Ethan snorted softly, grinning.

Spike tipped the bottle of Glenfiddich up and took a long swallow. "So how many more girls you think we're gonna get, Watcher?" he asked.

"Well, we had...seven, right before we left, not including these three. And there may be more. We need to do the spell periodically and make sure we're getting them all."

"Gonna be tight in here," Xander murmured, and Spike sighed heavily.

"Gonna be more than tight. Right...only one thing for it, then." Spike pulled out the cellphone Buffy had given him and dialed a number. _*Gonna be like a bloody psycho ward in here, is what it's gonna be,*_ he grumbled. Everyone watched him and Xander shrugged at the questioning look Giles sent his way.

_*Any idea?*_ Oz asked, and Xander shook his head.

_*None.*_

"Know you're not asleep, you wanker - Oi! Batvamp - Slayer needs a favor."

_*Angel? Jesus!*_

"I know you're gonna be here in a couple of days - that's the _point_. Bring the keys an' the deed to the house on Crawford Street, yeah? Why? 'Cause we _need_ it, that's why.... Can't imagine why you'd want to do _that_ \- oh! Except that you're an ignorant paddy who couldn't give a fuck about - You miserable fucking _bastard_ -" Xander snatched the phone from Spike, glaring at him, and handed it to Buffy, who stared for a moment and then took it, wincing as she held it up to her ear. They could all hear Angel shouting something, possibly in a demon language.

"Angel? Yeah, it's me. Uh - well - what Spike said about the house...?" She looked over at Spike, who raised his eyebrow at her and then took another swallow of the whisky. "Yeah, we need it." Buffy got up and went back to the bathroom, presumably for a little privacy, and Xander whapped Spike on the arm.

"Why did you have to get him all pissed off? He might not let us have the house."

"Don't really need him to bring anything - I've still got keys, and wolfling could rig the electric up in half a mo'. Just thought I'd -"

"Piss Angel off. Yeah." Xander leaned over and kissed Spike hard. "Smart idea, though. We'll never fit seven more girls in here."

"What's this house, then?" Ethan asked, and Giles, Xander and Spike all told him, in bits and pieces, the history of the Crawford Street house. Oz and Derio had got up and were putting various food items away and Tara was washing up cups and spoons. Dawn, who'd been yawning steadily for a half-hour was now asleep, slumping sideways in her chair and Xander caught her and held her, smiling as she murmured something in Latin and made a funny little 'sleep face'. The sky outside the windows was starting to lighten when Buffy came back into the kitchen and handed Spike his phone.

"He'll bring the things we need - he said he'd have Cordelia call and get things turned on tomorrow... They're getting Faith out tomorrow, too - Wesley and Gunn." Buffy smiled at Xander and Dawn and slumped down into her chair. "The house is kind of a mess over there. I look in sometimes...it seems to draw things." She pushed her fingers back through her hair and rubbed tiredly at her eyes - yawned into her hand. "We'll need - God - cots or mattresses or something, and sheets and stuff...." Buffy yawned again and then Xander did and then Giles, and they all smiled blearily at each other.

"We'll sort that all later, Slayer. I've got some contacts, and the - and Angel does. We'll get it done."

"It's _filthy_ over there," Buffy said, and Xander laughed.

"This is where my immersion in pop-culture is a benefit. I know the 'wax-on, wax-off' speech by heart and I'll bet cleaning the Crawford house would be a great way to start training the Potentials." Buffy stared at him and then laughed, her thin, tired face losing its pinched look, and Xander had to explain _The Karate Kid_ to Ethan and Giles.

"Okay guys, I'm so tired I'm seeing double. Xander, would you bring Dawn up to my room? Tara, you can bunk in with us, let Giles and Ethan have your room and, uh -"

"The four of us can share Dawn's room," Oz said, leaning against Derio and blinking sleepily. "We can always change and sleep on the floor if we have to - all the same to us."

_*Or squash into Dawn's bed,*_ Spike thought, and even though the mental picture made a hot little flash of _want_ skitter through Xander's groin he immediately squashed it.

_*No, no, no. No profaning of Dawn's room or Dawn's bed. Stop that!*_ he added, when Spike grinned and made a lewd little noise down in his throat.

"Okay...." Buffy yawned again and Tara patted her shoulder.

"I'm going to go clean up and - stuff," she said, and went slowly away upstairs. There was a general stirring as everyone got up and Buffy got clean sheets for the beds and Spike lit up a final smoke.

_*You all right? You didn't hunt….*_

_*Be fine. Do it tomorrow - well, tonight, really. Just tired. Need help?*_ Xander nodded and let Spike brace him as he pushed himself to his feet, maneuvering Dawn so he could carry her upstairs. A half an hour later they were finally settled, the curtains firmly closed and Oz and Derio curled around each other in a nest of quilts from the van. Spike was on his back, his hand idly stroking Xander's back, unease in the link.

_*What?*_

_*Oh just....*_ The link flashed with images - Angel, mostly, and Xander caught a bit of what the First had said to Spike in Seattle.

_*Want to talk about it?*_

_*No. But the Watcher's gonna want to drag every last syllable out, isn't he?*_ Spike sighed and hugged Xander close - closed his eyes. _*Deal with it then. Go to sleep now, yeah? Love you.*_

_*Love you, vampire mine….*_

 

"So he's a vampire with a _soul_ , but not like _your_ soul, his was a curse from some - gypsy sorceress?" Drake looked fascinated, pen poised over a worn leather notebook, and Spike lit a cigarette and huffed smoke irritably toward the ceiling.

"He's a vampire with a bloody great stick up his arse is what he is. Don't you want to talk about something else? Demon-girl was saying you learned a new trick in the bedroom."

Drake blushed beet-red. "Uh - no. I mean _yes_ , we did but no, I don't want to discuss it. Maybe take Anya out for a drink later, she's dying to tell _someone_ and I'd rather it not be my mother." Cecilia Pembroke and a cousin - some boy about nineteen - were arriving in Sunnydale that evening with a Potential. His great Aunt Portia Pembroke had already come and gone with a Potential from China who had no English, apparently, but had screamed quite nicely when she'd seen Spike - game-face and snarling - facing off with Kennedy. Again. Spike sucked a quarter-inch of his cigarette to ash and contemplated her sourly. The girl had decided her mission in life was to ride Spike's ass and even though it had only been two days Spike was on the brink of killing her - or at least just making her very, very sorry. Xander and Dawn and _Giles_ , of all people, had averted catastrophe so far, but Spike's patience - which was already cobweb-thin - was about to snap. Drake was saying something and he dragged his mind out of a pleasant little fantasy of showing Kennedy just _what_ those spiral nails were good for to listen to the man.

"...Anya insisted on telling me everything she knows about Angelus and his...well, about everything he did before he was souled."

"Did she now? Tell you anything 'bout me?" If he couldn't _do_ what he was imagining, at least he could _talk_ about it.

"Ummm...yes." Drake looked faintly green and Spike chuckled - slung a companionable arm around his shoulders.

"Don't worry, mate - I'm temporarily on the side of the...bloody angels. So no worries, yeah?"

"Yeah." Drake sighed and capped his pen - tipped his head a little, listening. A car was coming up the drive.

"Well, that's either Anya with more cleaning supplies, my mother, Angel, Buffy…."

"Think that's all that's out," Spike said, wandering over to a window and trying to peer out without getting burnt. Over the past two days the Crawford house had been cleaned to within an inch of its life, including the windows. Buffy and Dawn had gone to get more blinds and curtains but there were still some windows left unblocked.

Most of the Potentials were currently upstairs doing a final cleaning in the bedrooms and the three bathrooms - two up, thank Christ, and one down - and Xander, Oz and Derio were in the garden pulling out three or more years worth of dead plants and storm debris. _'Fire hazard'_ , Oz said, slipping images from two weeks of wild-fire fighting in Colorado into the link. Giles and Ethan were in the basement, patiently unraveling one of the many spells Dru had left on the house. Most were warding spells - and they shivered over the family like sparks and silvery ice - but they were tangled and messy. Dru's reaction to the new house and to Angelus' goading, and she'd splashed her power far and wide. It made for gaps.

"Slayer it is," Spike mumbled, feeling that twisty little itch in the back of his skull. If he concentrated, he could tune out the Potentials, they weren't nearly as strong. A few moments later the two sisters walked in, weighed down with supplies for the windows. There was a shriek from upstairs and everyone turned their gaze ceiling-ward.

"Guess somebody found something else," Spike said, smirking, and went languidly to see what was what. The cleaning had unearthed all sorts of things left behind by Angelus, Dru, and himself, as well as the various vamps who'd come with Spike and Dru after the Anointed One had burned, and the other vamps Angelus had made while trying to use first the Judge and then Acathla to end the world. So far they'd turned up a lot of human remains, some dodgy spell components, a few books that had had Giles running for Holy water and Ethan cackling and rubbing his hands like a mad-man, and a set of vamp-strength manacles that Spike had personally commandeered and had plans for later.

_*Thank gods there room enough for us to be private. Never knew my boy could be so shy.*_ Xander wasn't actually all that shy, but he knew too many people at the Crawford house and didn't want to have to look Buffy or Giles or, gods forbid, _Dawn_ in the eye the morning after when he'd been screaming for Spike to fuck him _now_.

_*Have to ask Glinda to put a little...muffling spell on the room. Ease his mind a bit and then we'll see what we can do with those chains.*_ Spike got to the top of the stairs and saw Tara coming towards him holding a small trunk in her hands, an expression of resigned horror on her face.

"Oh, Spike! Could you - take this? It's - it's -"

Spike took the trunk, the faint stink of corruption telling him _exactly_ what it was. More of Dru's 'doll parts'. "Anything for you, pet. 'Bout done up here?"

Tara smiled wanly and wiped her hair back out of her eyes. "Yeah, j-just about. There's a store room at the end of the hall -"

"Best not, pet," Spike interrupted, a sudden memory of what was in _there_ springing to mind. "Me and Xander'll take care of that later, yeah?"

Tara peered at him and then paled slightly as his words sunk in. "Oh - yeah, okay. Th-thanks, Spike."

"Course, Glinda." Spike tucked the trunk under one arm and reached out to tuck a lock of hair behind Tara's ear. _*She looks tired. Think I'll tell the Watcher she needs to do some research...give her a little break.*_ Tara had been taking up a lot of slack - she'd confided to Oz that she felt a little useless, because she wasn't a Potential, her classes kept her from doing a lot research or anything else, and she didn't think her magic was actually strong enough to help. _*Got enough magic in her to crack the world in two if she wanted to, but she never would...keep her safe.,..*_

_*Pack safe,*_ echoed from the garden, all of them in agreement.

"Come down with me, let's get a drink, yeah? Niblet made some lemonade this morning, looks almost right." Tara smiled and sighed and nodded, and they headed downstairs. Spike was going to take the trunk to the back door and let Xander have it - add it to the pile they were amassing in a dry cistern to be burnt later, when the wind died down.

Nearly to the bottom of the stairs and they could both hear voices - footsteps. Someone else coming, and it wasn't Anya or the mother. The Slayer-tingle was suddenly off the chart and Spike went reflexively into gameface, snarling. He dropped the trunk on the stairs and grabbed Tara, shoving her behind him. The front doors swung open and a dark figure stepped through - swaggering, grinning, and looking ready for a fight.

" _Faith_ ," Spike growled, and the dark Slayer looked up at him, eyes narrowing.

"William the Bloody - looks like this is going to be exciting after all."


	19. Loss

_*Just what I need,* Spike thought,*another Slayer that wants to kick my ass.*_ There was a flare of panic in the link and Spike watched Faith re-orient towards the garden door as Xander, Oz and Derio all came in _fast_ , Oz with something that looked like a machete in his hand and Xander shirtless and lean and looking as lethal as he was, the hyena making his eyes gleam in the slanting golden light of late afternoon. 

"Wow - welcoming committee," Faith said, shifting on her toes a little, angling back towards Spike as he came slowly down the last few stairs. She grinned at him and he grinned back, all fangs and demon's eyes because he _saw_ her in the link - in images Xander was shunting _away_ as fast as he could and Spike had the sudden urge to see if Faith still thought asphyxiation was fun.

_*Don't, don't, don't, she's here for a reason -*_

_*She'll heal,*_ Spike thought, then hissed as _Angelus_ slammed into the ambient. Derio was fighting the change, not up to the massive surges of emotion in the link and Oz dropped the machete, turned to him and put his hands on his shoulders - sent the wolf-chant out deliberately loud to _all_ of them.

_*Calm calm calm, pack is safe....*_ from Spike and Xander both, focusing on family for a moment while Angel ducked into the building under a silvery camp-blanket, looking rumpled and put out, a bag slung over his shoulder. He looked around the room, at Faith in 'Slayer' mode, at Xander and Spike in 'protect' mode, and at Oz and Derio locked into the mantra, and heaved a sigh.

"Can everybody just - stand down? We're not here to fight."

"We're always here to fight," Spike said, edging around a little and blocking Tara from getting past him. She poked him in the side and he twitched. "Stop that, Glinda!"

"Nobody's going to attack me, Spike - let m-me through!" Spike saw Xander's stance relax infinitesimally - saw him smile at Tara and he sighed himself and let her pass. Someone else was coming in and Spike waited, tense. But then the complicated scent of _DarlaAngelfamily_ wafted to him and he relaxed as well. It was the baby - Connor - in the arms of a thin, long-haired woman and Spike knew that Angel wouldn't bring his son into danger. Connor was fisting a handful of the woman's hair and looking as if he'd just woken up.

"Here, I'll -" Angel reached for him and Connor smiled, reaching back. The brown-haired woman pried his hand open and freed her hair, then looked around with a small, nervous smile on her lips. She was pretty in a doll-like way, with huge eyes and a heart-shaped face and something was coming from Tara - blood-smell of a blush and sudden sweat.

_*I think this is the mysterious Fred!*_

_*Ooh, I think you're right.*_ Xander turned to Oz and Derio, putting a hand out and touching Derio's back, stroking gently.

_*I'm all right, I'm - just startled...everything was so **strong**!*_

_*It's okay, it's fine...pack is safe, safe.*_

"So - we're not gonna throw down? Damn - I thought the Hellmouth would be more fun than L.A." Faith seemed to relax suddenly and completely, like a cat that's decided there's no threat. She sauntered over to the big leather couch Angel had left behind and flopped down, legs sprawled and hands behind her head.

"Just keep your distance, Slayer, and we'll be fine." Spike gave up resisting and went over to his pack, touching them all with light, quick touches. Anchoring and reassuring and the last of the tension eased off. Oz nuzzled his cheek against Derio's for a moment - kissed him - and then they turned to face Angel, who was fussing over Connor. Tara had disappeared into the next room and now she came back, smiling nervously at Fred and bringing Dawn with her. Dawn squeaked happily and bounced over to Angel, making a face at Connor and reaching out to tickle the child.

"I told B-buffy you were here, she went to get Giles and Ethan," she said, and Fred perked up.

"You must be Tara! Hey! It's so great to finally meet you! I mean, not that we haven't _met_ because we've been talking online for months but now we actually get to _talk_ and wow, you're more - I mean, hi, I’m Fred, Winifred, Winifred Burkle." Fred blushed and advanced on Tara, hand stretched out, and Tara blushed as well - took the offered hand and gave it a quick squeeze.

"H-h-hi, Fred, yeah I-I'm Tara."

"You're the witch?" from Faith, appraising stare and Tara blushed again.

"Our witch," Spike growled, and Faith grinned at him again. Tara's blush was epic. 

"You know, the whole 'witch' thing is really fascinating, I mean, are the spells really drawing on some sort of vast, occult force beyond our knowledge as mere humans or is it really just an intuitive way of manipulating the basic rules of physics and chemistry? I mean, that's assuming anybody actually _could_ manipulate atoms and molecules at will -" Fred stopped abruptly and ducked her head.

"Perhaps you'll get a chance to do some...research while you're here," Ethan said, laughing as he and Giles came in from the kitchen, cellar dirt on their hands and Giles with a grey tangle of cobweb in his hair. Spike could smell the stale earth, old blood, and fungus-sulphur smell of old, worn magic on them. Buffy was right behind them and she stopped in the doorway, looking at Faith, her expression unreadable.

"Oh - research? You mean _Tara_ and I -" Fred's eyes got somehow wider and she seemed to lose her voice altogether.

"Fred - could you get Connor some water? Tara knows where everything is." Angel was sliding the bag off his shoulder and holding it out, showing, Spike thought, an unusual amount of tact. And brains.

_*Maybe he just wants to make the babble go away.*_

_*It was pretty interesting babble,*_ Oz thought, going over to the couch they'd brought from Buffy's house and sinking down, bringing Derio with him. Fred took the bag - filled with Connor's things, apparently - and Tara led her to the kitchen, smiling behind her hair. Connor struggled in Angel's arms, chanting: "Down, Da, down, Da, down, Da!" until Angel set him on his feet and let him go. Connor caught his balance and then began to toddle straight towards Oz, Dawn beside him with her hands outstretched in case he fell. Oz sat up and put his hands out as well, smiling.

"Well, this is -" Giles started, but Faith interrupted him.

"You got a problem, B? 'Cause you're about to have one if you don't stop with the staring."

"No, no problem, Faith. Just wondering why you're here." Faith frowned - uncoiled from her sprawl and stalked over to Buffy.

_*Girlfight!*_ Spike snickered, and Xander grabbed him around the waist and dragged him towards Oz and Derio.

_*Don't! Jesus - now I've got hair-pulling and bikinis in my head!*_

_*Nothing wrong with that, love.*_

" _Everything_ wrong with it, love. Come say hello to your - nephew. Or whatever."

Spike twitched at that, glaring at Xander. "Not bloody likely," he snapped.

"Sorry if I'm a little unclear on where you stand just now," Buffy said, and Faith opened her mouth to retort but was interrupted.

" _Listen_ ," Angel said, loudly, and everyone turned to look at him except for Connor, who had discovered Derio's dreads and was trying to pull the bells out. "We've had a really long drive and we're kinda tired. And Fred and Faith were saying they were hungry so - could we maybe get some food and - and just everybody sit down? Talk about all this?" Angel didn't seem his usual self - seemed _off_ , somehow, more than tired, and Spike cocked his head to the side, watching him.

_*Something's up with the broody bastard. Wonder if he'll say?*_

_*You mean, something besides the usual?*_ Xander hadn't let go of Spike's waist and now he slipped his other arm around and hugged, chin on Spike's shoulder and his lips pressing into Spike's neck. Spike relaxed against him, finally letting his demon-face go, watching Angel and the dark Slayer through slitted eyes. Faith shrugged and went back to sprawl on the couch again and Buffy moved over to the other couch, still looking pissed. She had argued against getting the other Slayer out of prison - had argued that they didn't need a murderer on 'The Team'. Spike had just _looked_ at her, eyebrow up, and she'd subsided, glaring.

"Yes, I think that's an admirable idea, Angel." Giles bent a little at Ethan's urging and let the mage pick the cobweb out of his hair, grimacing at it. "I think first, though, Ethan and I really need to get cleaned up. The cellar here is -"

"Disgusting," Ethan finished, brushing his hands together distastefully.

Angel looked a little apprehensive. "Uh - maybe you guys should just - avoid the cellar," he said, and Spike chuckled.

"Too late, Angel. They've been dismantling Dru's messes for hours already. And the Potentials have found just about all the...'doll parts' she cached. And - other things."

Angel looked appalled and then he sighed, his shoulders sinking a little. "Oh. Sorry about that, Giles," he mumbled.

_*Oh fuck yeah, something besides the usual. That should have got more of a rise than that.*_ Flash in the link, of Angel in China when he'd had his soul but hadn't told them. The same then as now - a tiredness that was more than physical - sadness that wasn't guilt but was something else. _*He's losing - something. Resigning himself to it. Git. Why won't he ever fight?*_

_*Guilt, I'd guess,*_ Oz thought, and Fred and Tara walked back in just then, talking softly. Giles and Ethan strode off in the direction of the downstairs bathroom. Fred handed a little plastic cup with lions and tigers prancing around on it to Connor. It had a spout at the top and Spike regarded it curiously. 

_*Sippy cup,*_ Derio supplied, with images of his own numerous cousins using them and Spike shook his head.

_*Humans are strange. What's wrong with a plain cup?*_

_*That,*_ Xander thought, laughing as Connor grabbed the cup and immediately turned it upside down. It didn't spill, of course, and Spike shrugged.

_*Wasn't allowed to walk around with a cup, anyway. Food a good idea, pet?*_

_*Very good idea.*_ "There's about five places that deliver out here," Xander continued aloud. "Chinese, pizza, Thai, Mexican, and burgers. How about we just get some from each?"

"Oh! Mexican!" Fred said, jumping a little, and Tara smiled.

"Pizza!" from Dawn, who sat cross-legged on the floor making 'grrrrr' faces at Connor so he'd laugh, which he was doing around the spout of the cup.

"Hey! Xander's getting food!" It was a Potential - Rona - standing at the head of the stairs and there were appreciative yells from the second storey and a thundering of feet. The bow-shock of the Slayer energy was big enough to precede them by yards and Angel flashed to game face and swooped down on Connor - picked him up and held him close, fight or flight quivering through him. Spike could see the tension in him and that was one more piece in the puzzle because Angel - shouldn't be that upset. Not over a pack of little girls, Slayer-taint or no. Dawn 'eeped' and scooted closer to the couch, leaning into Oz and Derio's shins and shooting a glare at Angel.

"You'll get used to it, Irish," Spike said quietly, voice pitched for Angel's ears and the older vampire looked over at him, his expression a little wild.

"Jesus -" he said, and then the Potentials were pouring down the stairs, lugging buckets and mops and rags and bottles of spray-cleaner, combined scents of chemicals and shampoo and girl-sweat and _them_ \- the family. _Blood, Florida Water, Rose oil, blood, Dru Angelus Spike._ Angel took a hard, hard breath and lowered his head and Spike felt a moment's empathy. It was pretty overwhelming, even when you were used to it. And the memories that came from the stirred-up scents...those were just as hard to deal with.

"Hey - another vampire!" Kennedy, of course, doing her best to look hard and menacing and Spike didn't even have to try - the demon was right _there_ and he shook Xander off and was on her in three long strides - grabbed her by the scruff.

"The only other vampire you can't stake, so fuck right off, Kennedy," he snarled and gave her a shove in the direction of the kitchen. "You lot get this mess put away and get clean - you stink. And be respectful. That's the bloody Angelus and he's had more blood on his hands then you'll ever see in your lifetime." The Potentials milled uncertainly, exchanging _looks_ , then they flocked kitchen-ward, chattering. Spike didn't pull his punches and they'd learned fast in the last two days not to piss him off - and to hop it when he said hop it.

_*Oooh, I think you just might have shocked Angel speechless.*_ Xander chuckled in the link and it was true, Angel was staring at Spike with his mouth gaping open. Faith was looking a little surprised herself, but then she shook back her hair and stood up again, walking over to Buffy and holding out her hand.

"Listen, Buffy - let's just let all that old stuff go, okay? Angel said you needed help - that something big was goin' down. I'm...not the same as I was."

"Pretty close," Buffy said, eyeing her, but she finally reached out and took Faith's hand. "Okay. Let's go introduce you to the Potentials. They need to be whipped into shape and I'll bet you're just the girl to do it."

"You know it. Gimme a whip and see what happens." Faith's grin was full of innuendo and Buffy made a face, fighting her own smile.

"We'll take orders, Xander. And Drake found something in that room back there -" Buffy pointed past Spike towards what had probably been servant's quarters or store rooms, a row of cramped cells with small windows and no decoration. "You might want to - deal with it."

"Sure, Buffy," Xander said, ambling over and wrapping his arms around Spike again and Spike just sighed and nodded, tired of the cleaning already - tired of the past being unearthed at every turn. He'd already smashed the abandoned wheelchair to fragments and it was on the burn-pile outside.

_*Glad when this is over. Why doesn't this damn First just show itself so we can fight? Sick of all this mess.*_

_*Be home soon,*_ Xander thought, but his confidence in that mantra was wearing thin as Giles and Ethan discovered more and more about the First - and Buffy told about Angel's encounter with it years ago in this same house.

_*God, want to be home **now**...love you, love you....*_ Spike closed his eyes, oblivious for a moment to the Potentials, to Angel - to everything. Sinking into the internal, full-body pet that Xander was doing, into the _*pack, safe, love you love you*_ that was coming from Derio and Oz. Dawn was also _*family love brothers,*_ fuzzy but there and Tara's voice, rising and falling softly as she talked to Fred, was a pleasant, peaceful thing. _*Promise, promise,*_ Spike thought, although promise _what_ he wasn't at all sure. He was just - afraid, even though he wouldn't admit it. He felt as if something was going to swoop out of the sky - or burst up out of the floor - and devour them all. He pushed those things violently away into the dark, back into the recesses of his mind that still held the Initiative, and other things. The same place he'd been putting them since he first started loving Xander, and his William voice was right - it was crowded in there, and getting nasty.

_*Don't care. It's not going to get free and I'm not going to fail. Get my family safe out of this, that's all that matters - all that counts.*_

_*Teeth and claws,*_ from the demon maybe, or William, and he shook his head.

_*You all right, vampire-mine?*_ Xander asked, and Spike straightened and turned in Xander's embrace, dredging up a smile.

"Never better, love. Food, yeah? And then some talk and we'll have this sorted soon."

"Yeah," Xander said softly, and kissed him.

 

Food went over well. The Potentials all ate in the living room, cross-legged on the floor with Connor going from girl to girl, getting hugged, tickled, and fed. He seemed to prefer the pad Thai noodles and the veggie pizza over all. Dawn chose to eat with the Potentials so she could tell Angel/Angelus/Faith stories. Even Miss Kitty and Sinclair - unsettled by the move and the strangers - came out of hiding to beg scraps and Connor paced them around the circle for as long as they would put up with him, grabbing for their tails and saying _'kitty kitty kitty'_ under his breath. Everyone else gathered at the long table in the dining room, passing around plates and keeping the conversation on the casual side. Angel surprised everyone by taking some egg-drop soup and then looking speculatively at Spike when he refused any of the blood Angel had brought.

_*Never touching that foul mess again,*_ Spike thought, shuddering at the aroma of animal blood from Angel's mug. Derio sniffed and agreed silently that it was bad. Halfway through the meal, Cecelia Pembroke swept in with the newest Potential - from Australia - and grabbed Anya and Drake for 'family time' at her hotel. The Potential - Donna - ate three slices of pizza in rapid succession and fell asleep against the couch arm, her shoes still coated in the red dust of home. Then they talked.

"Wes hasn't found anything about the First you don't already know," Angel said, looking tiredly over at Connor and then back to the table. "We're doing some research, and we're talking to our people but...there's not much out there."

"The demon community knows it's coming, though," Buffy said, wiping her hands slowly on a napkin. "A lot of them are clearing out, and - Sunnydale seems to be waking up to reality. There are a lot more 'For Sale' signs around than before. I think people kind of...know."

"I wonder _how_ they know? Is it some sort of race memory thing or is it maybe -" Fred started rattling off theories and speculations and Spike shook his head - kissed Xander glancingly on the cheek and stood up.

_*Gonna have a smoke - go hunt. Be back in a while, yeah?*_

_*Sure. We're going to burn that stuff later - we'll be up.*_

_*Love you.*_ Spike pulled his duster on and stalked outside, lighting up and taking a deep breath of mingled air and smoke. The garden was dull and stark without the flowers Dru had loved, and the little fountain was sluggish - needed cleaning. The scent of the sea was far off and thin, and he could mostly smell old blood and the rot of things in the cistern. _*Good thing they're burning that tonight. Can't wait much longer.*_ He pulled out his flask and took a long pull, the last of the Glenfiddich that mage had brought, and was unsurprised when Angel stepped out into the garden after him. They both stood in silence, Spike smoking and Angel watching him, and Spike finally sighed and offered the flask. Angel took a long drink and handed it back, and Spike tucked it away.

"I'm hunting. You with?" he asked shortly, and Angel hesitated and then nodded.

 

Downtown Sunnydale was deserted, even though it was relatively early, and Spike headed for the docks. There was always something shady going on there, and he didn't think Angel would have too much to complain about if he took down a criminal or two. They wandered in silence along the creaking piers, the soft slap and gurgle of the sea familiar and calming. It was almost like the Duwamish near their house in Seattle and for a moment homesickness gripped Spike so hard that the link flared wide; Xander, Oz and Derio all snatched into the feeling and buffeted by it before he could get it under control.

_*Sorry, sorry my loves, sorry, didn't mean -*_

_*It's all right...all right...I miss it too, love, miss it too....*_ from Xander, heartbreak in that thought, and: _*Pack, pack safe...home soon.*_ and _*love you*_ from Oz and Derio.

"You all right?" Angel asked, staring at him, and Spike shook himself all over and frowned, going for another cigarette.

"Just talkin' to my family," he muttered, and Angel nodded slowly.

"Do you think what you did...hurt Xander? Do you think it...tainted him?" Angel's voice was so soft - so bereft of the usual impatience or accusation or sneer that Spike stopped walking and looked at him for a long moment.

"I can't touch his soul any more than he can touch mine. I might be playin' nice an' all but I'm still what I was - nothing's gonna change that. But I love him and he feels that, every minute. He knows, and -"

"Accepts," Angel murmured, and Spike shook his head impatiently.

"The _Slayer_ 'accepts'. Xander - _knows_. And it doesn't matter. He loves me no matter what," Spike added, so softly that Angel might not have heard, but he did.

"Do you think -" he started, and then paused, scenting the air. There were people up ahead, and there was blood. Spike grinned at him and flicked his cigarette away, shifting into game-face and stalk-mode as smooth as glass. Three men were attacking a fourth - the fourth was scrabbling for a gun that gleamed dully under the running lights of some ship - and Spike pounced gleefully into the midst of them, dealing out blows that knocked two men cold and broke an arm. He grabbed the fourth man and shook him.

"What're you doin' out here, mate? Not a good place to be after dark," he growled, and the man writhed in terror. Angel was in game-face also, his nostrils flaring at the thick scent of blood in the air and Spike snarled a silent laugh.

"Take it! Just take it! Just - don't kill me, okay? Please!"

"Take what, eh? What're you offerin'?" Spike asked, and the man kicked his foot out at a duffle that was lying half-zipped near Spike's feet. Spike poked at it with his toe. "Oy - Irish! See what's in here." He saw the man with the broken arm getting dazedly to his feet and he strode over to him, dragging the man in his arms along by the throat. The broken-arm man cringed away and Spike grabbed his jacket and flung him towards Angel, who straightened up from the duffle and caught him.

"It's heroin, Spike. A lot."

"Oooh - got a little horse in the bag an' you wanna trade it for your life?" Spike purred. The man nodded frantically, twisting in Spike's choke-hold.

"You can have all of it!" he rasped. "Worth a quarter-mil! More!"

"Sure it is," Spike said, grinning over at Angel who looked a little confused. Spike wrenched the man's head over and drank, fast, before Angel had a chance to figure out what he was doing. When he'd taken enough to incapacitate - but not enough to kill - he let the man fall to the ground, licking his lips.

"Spike! What the fuck -!" Angel's shock drove his demon away and Spike grinned, knowing there was blood on his fangs.

" _Said_ I was hunting, Angel. You think I live on animal blood - stale human blood fit for the garbage? I _hunt_. I just don't kill 'em - mostly." Angel just stood staring at him, but Spike knew he could hear the man's heartbeat - knew he was still alive. The man with the broken arm was babbling something now, about money and drugs, and Angel came out of his daze and shook him, shutting him up. Spike picked up the duffle of heroin and zipped it shut - spied another bag half-hidden under a pile of rotting crates and pulled it out.

"Oh look - the payoff." Spike lifted a stack of bills - hundreds - and the man twitched. "Go on, Angel - you can have a taste. You used to, you know. I remember. Only the murderers and rapists. He's close enough, don't you think?" Spike slung the bag of money down with the drugs and walked over to Angel who looked miserable and furious at the same time.

"You've _got_ to be kidding me, Spike! You - hunt - _people_. You drink their blood! How - how can.... Xander said you have a soul! Giles did!"

"I _do_ have a soul, you wanker! Not callin' Xander a liar, are you? Never _lost_ my soul, unlike some. You think I should be - hiding in the corner? Crying for the quick and the dead?"

" _Humans_ , Spike! How can you -"

"I'm a _vampire_ , mate, same as you, although _you'd_ like to forget what you are." Spike turned in a circle, arms outstretched. He felt a curious sort of buzzing somewhere in the back of his head. Felt as if he were floating. Memories of past times - hunts with Angelus, with Dru through the midnight streets - welled up and spilled over, and he was lost to the past.

"Play-pretend with your humans and hide your face all you like... Xander _knows_ what I am - they _all_ do." Spike looked over at Angel, and at the human who was struggling in his grip and he snarled in impatient fury. Strode over and snatched the broken-armed man out of Angel's lax hold. He cuffed the man a sharp blow and the human sank to the ground, unconscious. The link was thrumming with tension and _*question question*_ and Spike soothed his family - shut down, a little, letting them know it was just between him and Angel, for now. That floating feeling persisted, and Spike felt the demon stir and surge and stretch, reaching for the freedom it had had on the mountain with his family - nostalgic for past times and aching for Angel to just be _himself_ \- just this once, just for a little while. Cast out and denied and all ties severed but it still _wanted_...would always want.

"It's wrong, Spike. I don't have to -"

"But you _do_ , you bloody stupid _bastard_." Spike got up in Angel's face, the demon snarling at him and calling Angel's own to the fore, golden eyes and heavy, ridged brow and they glared at each other. "You fight it every day, Angel - every _minute_. You ever think that if you let the demon _out_ a bit more that the bloody Angelus wouldn't be madder than Dru? It's like asking a bird not to _fly_ , Angel!" Spike crouched down suddenly and wiped his finger along the broken-armed man's temple, where blood trickled from the blow he'd dealt. He stood back up and shoved his hand into Angel's face, watching the struggle - the desperation.

"It's what we _are_ , you ponce. Pretend all day and nothing will change it. _Use_ it! Don't imagine you're better for drinkin' that filth you do and sleepin' all night and hiding - everything you are." Angel seemed frozen, panting lightly, and Spike slowly painted his lips with the blood - put his other hand up and took the back of Angel's neck in a hard grip.

"They can take more than you think, Angel. They can - _accept_ more than you could ever imagine. I promised Xander I wouldn't kill 'em. And mostly I don't, unless they want it. The sick ones, they've always come to us, haven't they? I take those, sometimes, and he knows, and he doesn't mind. But I don't hide, and I don't try to fool myself. I'm _stronger_ than you, Angel, because I've never shut the demon out." Angel's mouth was open and he licked, slowly, at his lips. Shuddered violently under Spike's hand.

"There now," Spike crooned, leaning in to rest his forehead on Angel's - closing his eyes and inhaling the rich, earthy, musky scent that was Angel, Angelus...familiar as his own body and triggering a flood of memories that had been hovering for days, dredged up by the house-cleaning and ready to swamp him - drown him.

"Spike - you...I _can't_ -"

"'Course you can. Angel, Angel....Angelus...we were good together, yeah? Were like...one mind. One body. I always knew - where you were, when to move. Always knew you were _there_ , in a fight. At my back...." Angel shifted and his hands came up and gripped Spike's shoulders, kneading through his duster and Spike wanted to laugh - wanted to cry. Images thick and fast and not all of them bad - not all of them full of heartache.

"Wanted to share this with another man and you _did_...shared it all, showed me so much....loved you all so _much_ , Angel, wanted you all so much and I - tried so hard...." Spike heard his voice crack - didn't care. Oh, he was cold, and he missed Dru, he missed - Xander and their house, and he wanted.... "Why'd you leave us? Why'd you hate us?" _That_ memory, hurtful and bitter, made him catch his breath and Angel's hands were stroking his back now, pulling him into an embrace he hadn't felt in a century. The demon struggled, confused and angry, but Spike - _William_ \- just wanted the past to be quiet - wanted to somehow let out the poison of it and _*family family family*_ was dinning in his mind, overriding even the demon's anger at Angel's rejection.

_*Did want us, but there was something...something…. Dru would know, Darla...she'll remember. Mind like a steel trap, that one...have to ask….*_

"You always loved too much, Spike. Hurt yourself over and over, loving like that. I could never love like that...Angelus couldn't…."

"He _did_. You did. Before...why did you do it, Angel? You tore Dru to bits, leavin' us like that. Broke her right down, gutted me...." Old hurt, old pain - too _much_ \- and Spike struggled in Angel's embrace, pulling away and staring at him, knowing there were tears on his face and this once not caring. He was suffocating in the press of memory and emotion and he closed the link down harder, trying to keep the hurt away - trying to regain some control. Things were - coming undone. He felt it - recognized it - but didn't know how to stop it, and awareness dimmed.

"Spike?" Angel's voice, far away, and Spike shook himself and looked around, at docks and sprawled bodies and the thin, curling mist off the sea.

"Where's Dru, eh? Where'd we leave the ladies? Time to get them and go home...." There was something - _calling_. Something black and huge and older than anything he knew but it whispered promises - whispered _family_ \- told him where to go. Spike reached out for Xander but the link - wasn't there. Or he couldn't find it, and then he forgot what he was doing and looked at Angel again, who was staring at him.

"I know a place; they'll love it, Angelus. Let's find them, let me show you - you've never seen... come _on!_ You don't want to miss this -" Spike turned and ran, heading towards _what_ he wasn't sure but it _wanted_ , and it showed him things he'd forgotten - things he'd dreamed - and he didn't know the difference, now. He could hear Angel somewhere behind him and he shouted to the wind - to the sliver of moon and the sound of the tide.

"Come on - come on! Fast as you can! Can't catch me -" He laughed aloud, and the insistent prick of the link only urged him on. Somewhere was something to explain this, and he was going to find it. Somewhere was family, and Angel was there, missing link, and now he had the chain and he could pull them all back, make them all his, forever and always. _*Xander, wolflings, Dru...all of them, all of them…. Where's my boy? It - knows. It will tell me...tell me.*_ Running _towards_ , and he didn't notice that he was still crying.


	20. Games

"Man, I hope Spike and Angel aren't gonna fight," Xander muttered, helping Oz shove twisted newspaper into the pile of stuff they were going to burn. The feeling coming from Spike was uneasy and prickly - a little hostile.

"Yeah, don't need that," Oz agreed. He surveyed the pile and nodded his approval - turned with a smile as Derio came out of the house with a box of long fireplace matches. Oz made a small motion with his hand and Xander moved back - watched him light the newspaper. After a minute, when all the paper was ablaze, Oz leaned over the edge of the cistern to blow on the small flames. They flattened and sprang back, making a fluttering noise, and Xander concentrated on Spike. He could scent the blood with him - scent the fight. He felt it in his own body when Spike pounced on the man and drank him down. He lowered his head, trembling a little with reaction at the tingling rush of it. He could almost taste it in his mouth - fear and anger in equal parts, spice of alcohol and heat. A soft gasp at the sudden and nauseating feeling of floating - of disconnection.

_*What -*_ from Derio, head to one side and his hand gripping the cistern-edge tight, his eyes losing focus. The link shifted, flared and then _warped_ as something seemed to - scramble it. Xander lifted his head, a chill creeping over him and his eyes fluttering closed. Trying to sort the sudden, bewildering barrage of images and emotions. Oz growled softly, shifting, orienting himself towards wherever Spike was.

_*What the fuck?*_ The sense of something looming - _calling_ \- waiting to devour suddenly intensified beyond all proportion and the link went haywire, mental static shot through with memories that, Xander realized, weren't right. Not all of them.

_*Oh God, he's - fuck, something's triggered it - he's forgetting -*_ Derio was growling as well, halfway to wolf already and Oz was trembling - _Xander_ was. He felt as if he were being thrust into a violent windstorm; the link was _noise_ , was anger and fear and longing, and he thought for one long moment that he was going to fall, balance deserting him, vision going to a black-edged tunnel. And Spike wasn't answering - wasn't even _acknowledging_ them. He put his hand down on the edge of the cistern to steady himself and the fire, burning high, singed his knuckles. He didn't even care.

"Xander? What's -" Tara was in the doorway, hugging herself, looking troubled and Xander blinked at her, shaking his head.

"I don't know. Something's - happened, something -" The link flared suddenly, the demon overwhelming all, _*darklife chaos malice olderthan*_ and then it was gone - _Spike_ was gone as suddenly and completely as a TV that had been turned off, leaving only a low, grating hum. A little thread of glowing phosphor - cathode tube cooling down - was the only thing telling him Spike was alive. Xander swayed, feeling that as a physical blow.

"Oh - _God!_ " The looming - the _devouring_ \- presence was still there, oppressive and massive and somehow _gloating_ and Xander felt sweat break out over his body and face - felt the hyena surge up and out. And he let it come; opened wide to it and knew his eyes were alive with that eerie glow - knew the change in his aura had slammed into Tara like a wave when she gasped and staggered back a step. He was dimly aware of Oz and Derio stripping as fast as they could, changing before their clothes were half off, _*danger danger not pack not pack notpack*_ pouring off them.

"Xander -" Tara took one step towards him and then stopped, and he unclenched his fists - fought the hyena back far enough to uncurl the snarl that was twisting his mouth - stealing his voice.

"Ta-ara...f-fuck…."

"Go slow - what do I need to do?" she said, and Xander shook his head hard, sucking in a deep breath and feeling Oz press into his thigh on one side, Derio on the other. Heat and solid muscle and his hands were on their powerful shoulders, fingers sinking into the fur.

"Get - Giles and Ethan. Ward the house - do it _now_ , Tara, do - whatever you have to do. S-something's coming and Spike - Spike -" He struggled to stay _still_ , to listen, but he only got that feeling of a storm coming. Some rapidly approaching thing that was suffocating him - making him want to fight - to scream. The ragged bit of fire-fly glow from Spike was still there, flickering; sending jumbled emotions and glimpses of the past too quickly to see or understand.

"Get everything - locked down."

"I will. Xander - go find him." Xander nodded jerkily and lurched forward, the dual control of his body switching suddenly so that he _stalked_ into the house and Buffy leapt to her feet, her face pale.

"Xander - Oz? What -"

"Something's happened - something's coming. Spike -"

"Where is he? Is Angel -?"

"We have to _go!_ " Xander strode over to a chest shoved up against the wall and pulled out two longish knives, shoving them into the waist of his jeans. He snagged a short-handled ax and turned - tossed it to Buffy. "Tara - has the house. We've got to go _now_." Her face went set and hard, and he knew she understood.

"Faith!" Buffy yelled, hefting the axe. "You're in charge here - Tara knows - guard the girls!"

"You got it, B," from somewhere on the stairs and Faith's footsteps, pounding down. That little tingling pulse that said _Slayer_ was like a knife-point in the back of his head and Xander shivered all over, wanting _out_ of there, needing to get clear of it.

"But what on earth -" Giles, coming in from the kitchen with a comet's tail of Potentials and Xander snarled, patience gone, temper and the hyena taking complete control.

"Shit! His eyes -" Molly backpedaled when Xander glared at her then he turned and _ran_ ; out the door, across the courtyard, up the steps; Oz and Derio leaping ahead, Buffy right behind and the night like the wing of a raven, folding over them and taking them in.

 

Halfway to - wherever they were going - Angel suddenly pelted out of the blackness, two bags slung over his shoulders, game-faced and growling.

"Can you find him?" he shouted, and Oz let forth a string of yelping howls that Derio took up a moment later. Xander opened his mouth on a full-throated shriek and they wheeled like a flock of birds, darting down an alley, Angel falling in behind. It was _here, here, here_ , like a hooked line dragging them in, the oppressive _want_ and the tiny glowing spark of _*darklife pack family*_ that was all that told them Spike was still alive - still conscious.

_*Fucking school, it's the **school** , what the fuck - Spike, Spike, **Spike**!*_

_*Protect, protect - God, **hurts** -*_ Wolf-Derio whined, running beside him, and it _did_ hurt. The buzz that was the Hellmouth was stronger here by a hundred times or more and it made Xander feel as if ants were crawling all over him - crawling and _biting_. The string of beads he wore burned against his chest.

_*It's worse, it's stronger - fuck!*_ A sudden, blood-curdling _shock_ , and Xander stumbled and almost fell - wrenched himself up and ran on, hearing Angel roar behind him.

"What the fuck was that!"

"Hellmouth! Open or - _run_ , damnit!" They pounded down the sidewalk and then they were on campus and Xander snuffed the air, tasting for Spike and finding only earth and human-smell, overpowering.

_*Alarm? Pack, find him, find him.*_ from Oz. There was a light in the school where light shouldn't be, and the door yielded to Xander's shove. 

_*Not locked - Spike - **Spike**! We're coming, hold fast hold fast hold fast -*_ Oz and Derio skidded on the linoleum, claws scrabbling for purchase and Xander _ran_ , feeling the tug in the link getting stronger, the stuttering images and emotions starting to overwhelm him. He careened around a corner and almost ran full tilt into a door. 'Basement Access' on a red sign and a wooden wedge shoved under the edge of it, holding it open.

"Fuck - down here -"

"Like with the eggs -" Buffy said, panting, and Xander remembered. That _seal_ was down there - the Hellmouth's front door and that - was where Spike was.

_*Fuck, fuck, **fuck** , it called him here - Spike! Protect protect protect -*_ He practically flew down the stairs - around a landing and down again and then they were running along a labyrinth of corridors. _Stuff_ \- was everywhere - old desks and file cabinets and piles of broken chairs and tables. Over all was that 'basement' smell of must and earth and water, stale air and dust. And a faint, lingering _scorched_ smell that reminded him of the day they'd blown the school up. And _*blood, that's blood - fuck - **Spike**!*_

Oz whined, panting, running just ahead, Derio on his heels. Angel's shoes thundered on the dirty concrete and Buffy's boot-heels made sharp _crack crack_ sounds. And something else. _Spike_. Shouting.

"I did _not!_ I wouldn't do that! Doesn't matter, doesn't matter -" His voice abruptly cut off and Xander pushed himself, extra burst of speed, his lungs burning. A corner, then a doorway and Oz was through, and Derio, _*careful, jump!*_ then _he_ was, stumbling and nearly falling over a body lying aslant the door. Dirt was mounded up around the edges of the room and the seal lay exposed - bloody. Spike was against the far wall, crouched down over another body, head in hands.

_*Blood - Jesus, on him, his hands - the **seal** , God -*_ Then they were across the room, they were around Spike, the wolves pushing up against him and Xander crouching down - reaching for him. "Spike - hey, Spike - you okay? Are you hurt?" Spike flinched and looked up at him. Eyes wide, blood smeared on his mouth, his cheek, his hair, from where his hands had clutched and raked the strands into disarray.

"You're not _dead_ ," he hissed, and then the link _surged_ \- opened wide and Xander almost screamed. Spike _did_ , his fingers clawing at his head and Xander lunged and grabbed him, pulling him up and away from the body that lay at his feet, holding him tight. The seal was closed but the nerve-wracking hum from it still shivered through the air and Xander could feel a headache building behind his eyes.

_*I'm here, I'm here, you're safe - pack is safe - Spike, love, you're safe, safe.*_

_*Pack pack pack safe, love you...*_ Derio and Oz pressed into Spike's legs, heat and solidity and Spike was shuddering, panting.

_*I saw her, saw her - she told me - Xander, she said you were **dead** , she said - I killed you, killed...she **showed** me - Xander, Xander -*_ Spike was incoherent - terrified - and Xander mindlessly soothed and whispered and held him, doing his best to shunt the battering emotions away from Derio and Oz - trying to let them just go through him and drain away. Images - Dru, and Darla, and _Angelus_ , dressed like a movie extra and Xander couldn't tell if they were old memories or new.

Buffy and Angel were still by the door, helping the man there sit up. Youngish black man, suit and tie and a bloody bruise on his jaw. Oz nuzzled into Spike's side and then went to investigate the body that was sprawled over the seal.

_*Gonna change,*_ he thought, brief flicker of modesty with Buffy there, and then he changed and crouched naked over the blond corpse - turned it gently onto its back. The throat was gone. "It's - Andrew," Oz said softly, and Buffy looked up, grimacing at the blood and cartilage and muscle showing raw and dirt-flecked under the slack, pale face.

"He and that - other boy were down here -" The black man coughed, holding his ribs, and Buffy helped him to stand.

Angel stalked over to Xander and Spike, his face set and furious. "You _killed_ him, Spike!"

"Fuck off, Angel!" Xander glared at Angel over Spike's shoulder and Derio pushed forcefully between Angel and Spike, hackles raised, growling.

"Xander, you can't seriously be okay with -"

"Shut the fuck up," Xander snapped, bending a little to listen to Spike who was muttering something into Xander's neck.

"Spike? What'd you say, love? Tell me again."

"I didn't - I don't - _you_ said no killing and I don't, I hardly ever do, I - he was - there was blood on the s-seal, blood all - down his arm and that - that -" Spike twisted suddenly and stared at the seal - at Oz, who was changing back. "Of _course_ they know! I don't -"

"Spike?" Xander took Spike's face gently in his palms, turning his head. "We know what, love?"

Spike just stared at him for a moment and then he suddenly shivered all over and the link rapidly settled, going from chaotic flood to normal in seconds. "Xander? What are - fuck, it was _opening_ -" Spike whipped around to stare at the seal again - lifted his hands to scrub them back through his hair and checked when he saw the blood. "What the _fuck_ is going on?"

"That's what I'd like to know. We need to get out of here. Is - that guy dead, too?" Buffy was looking at the third body, the one Spike had been crouched over.

_*Oz, is he-?*_

_*Alive - hurt. His blood on the seal.*_

"He's alive, Buffy. He may need a doctor." Buffy crossed over to where the third body lay and crouched down, gently turning the boy and jumping back a little when he groaned.

"It's Johnathan! Angel - help me -" Angel glared at Spike for a moment and then walked over to Buffy. Between them they hoisted the limp body up. Johnathan's head lolled and he whimpered faintly, his black shirt shiny with blood.

"What - should we do with -" The black man gestured hesitantly at Andrew and Buffy shook her head.

_*We'll bury him. Get out of here.*_ Oz straddled the body and took a mouthful of the black turtleneck Andrew had been wearing between his jaws - lifted him up and began to drag the body away, wolf with prey and Xander saw Buffy go pale.

"Oz and Derio can - bury him. He's been missing for months and there was never...no Missing Persons. We can't stop to deal with him," Xander said, gently as he could, and Buffy gulped and nodded. "Buffy - who is -" Xander gestured at the black man, who looked...oddly calm, for being in the midst of blood and chaos.

"I'm - I'm Robin Wood. I'm the principal at Sunnydale High. And I know Ms. Summers - she's pretty infamous around here." Robin brushed half-heartedly at his suit and looked narrowly at Spike. "When I came in here, _he_ was - raving. Had that blond boy by the neck. He - he killed him. I tried to stop him - I think he cracked my ribs. You _do_ know he's a vampire?"

"'Course we _know_ ," Xander snapped, ice forming in the pit of his stomach and he felt a shiver go through Spike.

"Had to - had to, Xander, he was - it was _opening_ and she said - said I'd done it, said I'd hurt that - that boy but I _know_ , I know, I - had to stop him -" Spike vamped suddenly, growling, lunging forward towards nothing at all. "Get _out!_ Get out - filthy _bitch!_ Angelus, rein her in or I fuckin' _swear_ -" Xander wrapped his arms around Spike, holding him as tightly as he could, pulling him back from his invisible antagonist. The Hellmouth energy thrummed over their nerves, like being next to a huge, poorly-tuned engine and he couldn't sort it from Spike, from Buffy, from Oz and Derio, who were going rapidly away with the corpse, relieved to be going but _*Keep him safe - love you, Spike, love you, pack, pack.*_

"We have to get _out_ of here. Buffy - come on -" Buffy nodded and she and Angel started maneuvering the boy out of the room, his limp body slung between them. Johnathan moaned again, his eyes fluttering.

"I think he needs a doctor," Buffy said, and Robin started patting at himself.

"I've got my cell - I'll call 911 and - and then I'm going to want an explanation for - all of this," he said, eyeing Spike - and Angel - and the seal with a tight-lipped expression.

"Yeah, we'll call you, let's get going." Buffy and Angel hauled Johnathan out, Robin following behind, and Xander slowly let Spike go - turned him so he could see Spike's face.

"Love, you all right? What happened?" He let his fingers brush over the dried blood on Spike's cheek and Spike shuddered, closing his eyes and leaning into Xander - leaning his forehead on Xander's and taking a long, hard breath.

"I don't - know, Xander, I - Angel and me, we were - on the docks. And these men - fighting...and I stopped them and I had one...drank from him…." He stopped and Xander slid his hands down Spike's shoulders - slipped them in under the duster and rubbed gentle, soothing circles on Spike's back.

"Yeah. I felt that. Then - you were talking to Angel and...?"

"Was telling him - stop being so daft, stop _fighting_ the demon and...try to live with it. He was - he...I _forgot_ , Xander! I thought - we were hunting, I thought we'd go and get...D-dru and Darla and...and I was gonna - show them this, it...said you were here, said...we'd be family and I forgot, I just - I thought - Angelus had come back and I _wanted_ you, wanted him, wanted -" Spike wrenched away - drove his fist hard into the cinder-block wall and stood there, head down, blood oozing from under his knuckles. Xander hesitantly touched his shoulder, squeezing gently through the scarred leather.

_*Spike, love - it's all right -*_

"No it's _not!_ It's _not_ all right!" Spike whipped around, demon to the fore. "I _forgot_ us! Forgot the claim...Xander, I would have - If I'd kept forgetting I would have tried to turn you! Anything to keep you…." Spike's hand, shaking and blood-stained, lifted to cradle Xander's cheek, and Xander felt the sizzle of pain in the link from the broken fingers.

"But you didn't forget _me_ -" he whispered, and Spike shook his head slowly.

"No...something said - you were mine, had to be...mine. Said I wanted you and needed you and...I did. But - I would have _taken_ you, love, not asked you." _*Forgive me, Xander, please, so sorry, so sorry….*_

_*Spike - no - nothing to forgive, please, love *_ Xander pulled Spike into his arms and just held him, murmuring to him, rubbing slowly over his back, doing his best to comfort - to reassure. The link was full of images - of emotions - and Xander saw that it was true. Spike _would_ have taken him, made him over. Would have tried. And Xander...wasn't sure he cared, deep down. _*Anything, my love, my own….*_ But he didn't share that with Spike. Not...now.

_*I'm not helpless, love, and Oz and Derio are here - we'd have stopped you, if we'd had to. You'd never hurt me, Spike, never hurt me. Love you, vampire-mine, love you so much.*_

_*Scared. Xander, I'm scared, please don't - don't let me.*_ Spike was breathing in jerky pants into Xander's neck, wetting the skin there and Xander knew he was fighting tears - fighting and losing.

_*Won't. I won't. You're safe, love, safe - promise. Love you.*_

_*Love you, keep you safe, pack, pack.*_ Distant but coming closer, Oz and Derio doing their best to reassure as well, and Xander finally pulled back a little - got Spike turned toward the doorway.

"Come on, love, we need to get back to the house. Faith's there, and Tara, but…."

"Yeah. Okay." Spike sniffed and wiped at his eyes - took out a cigarette and lit it - stared for a moment at the blood on his hand. They picked their way around the room, being careful not to stumble over the mounded earth, and then went out and up, as fast as they could. They met Oz and Derio near the front doors and watched from the shadows as an ambulance loaded Johnathan up and took him away. Angel faded out of the darkness when they did, the bags still over his shoulders and Spike laughed weakly.

"Kept the skag then, Angel? Good on you," he chuckled, and Angel glowered at him.

"I want to know just what in _hell_ is going on -" he started, but Derio growled at him, and Buffy put her hand on his arm.

"Let's get back home first, okay, Angel? I don't like leaving everybody alone for so long." Angel looked at her and sighed, nodding.

"Yeah, okay. Let's go."

_*Meet you there,*_ Oz thought, and he and Derio loped away, disappearing into the darkness.

 

The Crawford Street house was in chaos and Xander just shut his eyes for a minute, willing his headache to go away. But it didn't, and he sighed and stared at the milling Potentials - at the wounded ones, lying on the floor. Several of the girls were crying and Vi was hysterical. Faith - bloody but upright - was snapping orders, and Tara, Giles and Ethan looked as if they were recovering from something bad. A ward was up and it sizzled over their skin as they crossed the threshold. Angel flinched from it, looking around, and Buffy rubbed the back of her neck. She had a streak of blood on her arm.

"Tara - Dawn?" Spike called, darting forward, and Tara put up her hand - smiled weakly as Spike crouched down next to her. A thin trickle of blood was coming down from her nose and Spike looked around for something to wipe it away. Xander's breath _ooofed_ out of him as Dawn flung herself at him and he picked his way across the floor to Tara as well, hugging Dawn close. Oz and Derio were in the garden, hunting the grounds for -

"Bringers. It was those - Bringers. You guys booked and - _bam_ \- they were on us. Didn't even have time for the mojo to go up." Faith wiped her hair back from her face and hauled an extra-large sized First Aid kit closer to her and started cleaning a gash in the leg of one of the girls. It was the Chinese one, and she said something faintly, looking the other way. Dawn hugged Xander one more time and then slipped away, moving to take the girl's hand. She said something haltingly to her and the Chinese Potential nodded, eyes closed.

_*Our girl gets smarter every day,*_ Spike thought, pride and worry mingling in that thought and Xander had to smile. He knelt down next to Spike, rubbing Tara's knee softly.

"How many were there? What happened?" Buffy moved to help Faith and Angel slung the bags to the floor - looked around.

"There's another kit in the kitchen, Angel," Buffy said, her tone implying quite clearly that she expected him to go and get it and get busy. Angel stared at her for a moment and then went, glaring. Spike chuckled softly, holding both of Tara's hands in his.

"You all right, pet? You look knackered."

"I'm - I'm fine. We had to put the ward up f-fast. I've never done one without - preparing. Ethan showed me how and then we made it. It was - hard." Tara looked up gratefully as Rona brought her a wad of paper towels. She wiped at her nose and looked over at Giles and Ethan, both of whom were slumped against the wall, pale and exhausted looking. Ethan had a nose-bleed as well.

"Fuck - shouldn't have left, shouldn't have gone out at all, damnit," Spike muttered, and _*My fault, my fault, put them all in danger, **famly** first, never should have -*_

_*Stop it, Spike! It's not your fault. It's the First and you know it. They'd have attacked no matter what. It's not your **fault** , Spike.*_ Spike looked at Xander for a moment, and Xander could see the grief and guilt and self-loathing in his eyes, and then Spike was closing the link, turning back to Tara and Xander wanted to kick and scream. This had to be fixed. They _had_ to find a way.

"Please don’t shut me out, Spike," Xander whispered, and Spike's shoulders slumped. He nodded and let his control of the link ease, and Xander hated the sorrow and desperation and fear that flooded out to him. Tara looked unhappy - it was clear she could sense something - and she put her hand out and gently petted Spike's hair for a moment.

_*Clear - all clear out here. Nothing,*_ from Oz, and a minute later the two of them came inside, human again and dressed, shivering under the ward. They both came immediately over, Derio trailing a hand over Spike's shoulder as he settled on the couch next to Tara, Oz crouching down and smiling up at her - leaning into Spike a little, _*Love you love you pack,*_ softly in the link.

"There was only - ten? Only ten. We got four of 'em - they're over there." Faith jerked her chin towards the stairs and for the first time Xander noticed the bodies, stacked haphazardly. Beings dressed in black, their eyes - gone. He shivered and squeezed Tara's knee - looked over at Oz.

_*Fire still going?* he asked, and Oz nodded._

_*When they're asleep,*_ Oz thought, and Xander agreed.

"When they got the wards up, it - hurt them, I guess. The ones still standing ran and we finished off the ones too hurt to get out. Giles can swing a sword like you wouldn't believe." Faith sent a grin over her shoulder at the Watcher and Xander heard Ethan chuckle softly. "Our girls did good, B." Faith finished off the bandage on Chao-ahn and sat back on her heels, looking tired.

"Yeah, they did. Okay...." Buffy stood up, looking around the room at the Potentials. They looked back, and Xander thought that maybe they were - straighter, now. A little more confident. "You guys _did_ do good, and - well, I'm proud of you. Why don't you go upstairs, get cleaned up and get to bed. We've got a lot of stuff to do tomorrow."

"What happened with you tonight?" It was Kennedy, sporting a black eye and a badly scraped shoulder, and Buffy sighed and shook her head.

"In the morning, Kennedy. Come on, all of you, upstairs." Kennedy grumbled and the other girls didn't look happy, but they eventually trailed away upstairs, avoiding the pile of Bringer corpses. Angel, who'd done a little bandaging himself, was wiping his hands on some spare gauze.

"I kind of want to know what happened tonight too," he said, eyes on Spike's face, and Spike snarled at him.

Xander put a hand on Spike's shoulder. "Buffy can tell you, Angel. We're gonna get rid of the bodies." Angel eyed him - nodded stiffly and strode to the courtyard.

Buffy sighed again and looked over at Xander and Spike. "You want me to tell him about...the forgetting?"

"If you can," Xander said softly, and she nodded, frowning, and turned and followed Angel out.

_*Wanker. He needs to go.*_

_*Yeah. C'mon - you okay to do this?*_ Spike pushed himself to his feet - patted Tara's shoulder.

She smiled at him and stood herself, stiff. "I'm going to make some tea, something...calming. I think we could all use it," she said quietly. She went over to Giles and Ethan and got them up, Ethan swaying a little and leaning heavily on Giles.

"I'll - take tea out to Buffy. She may need some help...explaining," Giles said, his voice hoarse and tired, and Tara patted his arm and led the way to the kitchen. Dawn had found Sinclair and was cuddling him on the other couch, watching everyone scatter.

"Hey, Spike - can I have the last of your Jaffa Cakes?"

"'Course you can, Bit." Spike smiled, going over to stroke a hand over her hair and give Sinclair's head a quick rub. She grinned at him and went into the kitchen. Xander pushed his hands through his hair - looked over to Oz and Derio.

"Let's get this over with, then," he said. Spike pulled his duster off and flung it over the couch - went with Xander to the Bringer corpses and the four of them hauled them out into the garden where the fire in the cistern was burning hot and bright.

As the bodies slowly dissolved to ash and grease and bits of charred bone, they sat against the wall, watching. Derio and Oz were leaning together, Derio humming softly under his breath, Oz's fingers restlessly twisting in his dreads. Xander leaned against the wall, Spike between his legs, cuddling him close. Spike had his head on Xander's shoulder - his arms crossed over Xander's.

_*We'll fix this, Spike. Whatever it is, we'll fix it. Promise.*_

_*Love you, Xander. Love you.*_

_*Love you too, vampire-mine....always.*_ Xander rested his cheek on Spike's temple and pulled him closer, and hoped, quietly and secretly down in the bottom of his heart, that they _could_ fix whatever was wrong. _*Please - anything. I'll give anything - do anything. Just - anyone that can, anyone that will...help us.*_


	21. News

Xander stumbled downstairs around eleven o'clock the next day, yawning, squinting against the sun that was coming in through the kitchen windows. He looked blearily around and finally found a clean mug, and poured himself some coffee. It was stone-cold, so he stuck the cup in the microwave and turned to find some breakfast - and nearly jumped out of his skin when he found Faith standing right behind him.

" _Fuck_ -" He pushed down the hyena's instinctive response - _*not pack!*_ \- and crossed his arms over his chest, hating to be defensive. But the unpleasant Slayer tingle was worse, now that there were so many, and Faith's in particular was harsher than Buffy - less controlled.

"Sorry, man, didn't mean to -" Faith made a sort of 'backing off' gesture, hands up and open, literally taking a step back, and Xander sighed and forced himself to relax.

"You startled me. And I can - feel you. It's…. It's uncomfortable."

" _Feel_ me? Like - how?" Faith leaned back against the counter behind her, pulling cigarettes and lighter out of her jeans - although how they fit in that skin-tight denim, Xander wasn't really sure.

"Like - a kind of buzzing in the back of my head. Listen, Faith, I'm just - getting some breakfast and -"

"Hey, Xander, I just -" Faith looked intently at the tip of her cigarette for a minute and then looked up at him. She looked serious, and a little angry, and Xander just didn't want to talk about it. "I just - I wanted to say I'm sorry, okay? I was - really shitty to you before and...I wanted you to know...I didn't say anything but I was really glad you tried to...well, tried to be my friend, you know? I just...was in a really bad place." She took a huge drag on the cigarette and for a moment Xander flashed on Spike, and how he distracted himself from unpleasant things, and he sighed.

"Faith - look. That...was a long time ago, okay? I mean, yeah, it sucked and I was pissed about it for a long time. But now -" Xander made a gesture, indicating the house; the Potentials, whom he could hear out in the garden - the situation, really, with a spread of his fingers. "Now is - really _bad_ , you know? And that's just...done. It's over. I'm...I don't care, anymore. You're here, helping us - Wes says you're okay, and Tara does, so - I trust you. Just stay away from Spike, okay? 'Cause he… _doesn't_."

"Feeling's mutual," Faith muttered, and then she shook her head. "I get - what he's doing. Kind of. You two...Wes kind of explained, and Fred did, a little. You know her and your witch are kinda...diggin' each other?" The microwave _dinged_ and Xander turned and got his coffee, cradling the warm cup in his hands.

"Yeah," he said, chuckling, and Faith relaxed a tiny bit, smiling at him. _*She's really pretty when she smiles. Fuck. Can't wait for this whole mess to be over. Really wasn't up to confronting the woman who...well….*_

"Fred just wouldn't shut _up_ about her - 'Tara' this and 'Tara' that and - it was kinda cute, in a really annoying sorta way." Faith finished her cigarette and moved to the sink, dousing it and tossing the butt into the trash. _*Pack pack pack*_ , getting stronger, and then Derio padded in, pajama pants and the string of red and black beads and nothing else. He blinked sleepily at Faith, a little flare of alarm in the link, and then he went for the coffee as well. While the microwave ran he leaned next to Xander, shoulder and hip brushing, and Xander sighed and leaned back, letting his cheek rest on Derio's head a little, his dreads rough and thick with the scent of wolf and citrus and woodsmoke.

Faith watched them, a considering look on her face. "Wes said something...you guys are - really close, huh?"

"Pack," Derio said, and Xander could feel the wolf surge in him a little.

"Pack? Oh, yeah - you're a wolf, too... But - Spike's not. He's not -"

"He's pack," Derio said, and he turned and got his coffee and stalked out, his eyes flaring black. Xander grinned a little, moving over to the table to get sugar. _*Pack pack...don't like her!*_ in the link as Derio went back upstairs.

"Freaky shit, Xander. Why'd you want to link up with a vamp and a werewolf? I thought girls did it for you. _Humans_ , at least."

"You count yourself in that class still?" Xander said softly, and Faith blanched.

"Yeah - more than that guy - a lot more than _Spike_. Doesn't make much sense."

"Doesn't have to, Faith. It is what it is. I suggest you keep your opinions...to yourself." Xander sugared his coffee and stirred it, angry jabs of the spoon. He tossed the spoon in the sink and turned to glare at Faith. "Last time you saw Spike he still had that fucking - _thing_ \- in his head. He doesn't anymore, and he'd rack up his third Slayer in a heartbeat. Don't push it." When Faith's eyes widened Xander knew the hyena had flared to the surface and he grinned at her - threat display and warning and promise - and brushed past, going back upstairs.

 

Spike was still asleep - uneasy and fretful, but not _aware_ \- and Xander had chanced leaving him with Oz for a few minutes. He'd _been_ hungry, but now he wasn't, and he pushed his sweats off and climbed back into the bed. They'd bought two dozen of those tall, self-inflating air-mattresses and until last night, Oz and Derio had shared one in the corner, and Xander and Spike another near the door. Last night they'd all curled up together in the corner bed, dragging all the blankets and pillows over and they'd stayed in a warm knot all night, Spike in the middle.

Now Xander leaned on one elbow and sipped his coffee - watched Oz take a sip of Derio's and then lay back down, his hand on Spike's shoulder. Their radio was on, playing softly, and Xander tried to relax and let the tension ease out of him - tried to put away the fear from the night before, and all his dread and worry about the future. The link was edgy; the wolves and the hyena still in 'fight/flight' mode, but it was _family_ and _love_ and _warm_ more than anything, and Xander felt calm stealing over him. The rich voice of the woman on the radio, singing about love, lulled him into a half-asleep state, and he drifted there, the cup in his hand tilting and tilting.

_"We lived our little drama...we kissed in a field of white...._   
_And stars fell on Alabama last night…_   
_I can't forget the glamour...your eyes held a tender light…_   
_And stars fell on Alabama last night…._

Xander jerked, startled, as Derio eased the coffee cup out of his hand and leaned off the edge of the bed, setting it on the floor. "Thanks, Derio..." he murmured, and snuggled back down, wrapping himself around Spike who burrowed back into him, sighing. They'd stayed up until nearly dawn, making sure every recognizable bit of the Bringers were burned to ash, Oz even raking through the coals to make sure. At some point Tara had come outside and tossed a handful of herbs on the fire - to keep restless spirits from rising, she'd said - and she'd stayed to talk to Spike about what happened when he forgot, clarifying things in her mind.

_"I think that the spell that Willow used to get my...sanity back from G-glory will work on you, Spike. With a little ch-change. We don't have Glory to tap so we'll have to get your right memories from Xander."_

Spike had protested, but Tara had calmed him, explaining. Telling him that they wouldn't be stripping the memories away from Xander, but making a copy to fill the holes that Glory had left and that the First seemed to be able to fill with its own manufactured memories. Spike had been unhappy - still shaken and keyed up - but he _trusted_ Tara - they all did. She'd gone to find Giles and Ethan and talk about it with them, and as far as Xander knew they were still at it. He'd heard muted conversation from the big room they'd made into a make-shift library as he'd come upstairs.

_*They'll figure it out...they'll find a way...Spike, love you.*_ Oz was singing softly with the radio and Derio joined him, their voices blending neatly.

_"I never planned in my imagination...a situation so heavenly…_   
_A fairy land where no one else could enter...and in the center, just you and me, dear…."_

Angel had come outside at one point, as well - wandered into the garden and stood there watching the fire. Or rather, pretending to. Actually, he was watching Spike and Xander, Oz and Derio - watching and wondering because eventually he came over and crouched down, suffering in silence the automatic growl that Derio couldn't repress and the sneer that curled Spike's lip.

_"What do you want, Angel?" Xander asked, never once letting his hand stop its slow stroking of Spike's shoulder and arm and chest._

_"I - down on the docks...." Angel ducked his head and scrubbed at his eyes - looked off to one side for a moment and Xander saw, in the reflected light of the fire, the human face of a young man made immortal... made to bear the burden of guilt for a century or more...made to kill his maker. There were small lines at the corners of his eyes, and a bone-deep exhaustion that made the dark eyes stark and hollow. Something of Xander's pity got through to Spike, who shook his head slowly and heaved a sigh._

_"What about the docks, Angel? You having guilt now, for tasting the blood? For letting me get off scot free?"_

_Angel had frowned and then sighed himself - shook his head. "No. For once...I don't feel guilty about anything. You're right, Spike. I think...maybe you are stronger." Shocked silence from Spike - shock all through the link and Xander hugged him close._

_Spike recovered fast, though. "Course I'm right. Nothing good ever came from denying what you **are** , Angel." Spike's voice was soft, and it took on a faintly mocking tone that even without the link Xander could tell was a tease. "Look at all the trouble you caused, denying your own all these years." A brief glance at Spike from under his brows and Angel looked away again, but his mouth was curled up a bit at the corner - just a bit._

_"If you'd said... If you'd told us, mate...Dru'd have you no matter what, you know that. She's crazy for you even when you try to burn her up. We'd have figured something out."_

_"You'd have hated me, just like -"_

_"What, like Darla? Bitch was always a bit too high and mighty for my tastes. And you forget I've **got** a soul, Angel - didn't know about it, but.... It's made things different. It would have made - everything different, if you'd have just...trusted us." Spike fell silent, and Angel stared off into the darkness for a long, long moment. The link - was calm. At peace even, and Xander could feel some long-held tension relaxing, deep in Spike. Something denied finally breathing free._

_"We weren't always like this, Angel. Family - is in the blood. Can't deny it - it just hurts. Leave go, why don't you?" Spike's voice was so very soft, and Angel stood abruptly and paced to the edge of the cistern and stood there. They pretended not to see him wipe his eyes and Angel pretended he hadn't done it. After a moment he turned around and leaned on the edge and something seemed to have loosened in him, as well._

_"Family...I finally have one again and - and it might -" He cut himself off, his mouth a thin, tight line of pain and Oz stirred, *family pack* faintly in the link._

_"Is something wrong with Connor, Angel?" he asked, and Angel laughed softly._

_"No, nothing's wrong with Connor. Connor is...amazing. He's so amazing...no, it's - Cordelia."_

_"What's wrong with Cordelia?" Xander asked, and Angel told them. Visions, the Powers - her pain. And how it was getting worse. And the CAT-scan that showed bleeding - that showed damage that couldn't be repaired - that couldn't be stopped.._

_"I can't - lose her...Connor can't," Angel whispered, his back to them again, his hands tight on the edge of the cistern. Wes was working on it - they were all doing what they could - but there was nothing._

_"Talk to Giles, Angel - talk to Ethan and Tara, they can -"_

_"No." Angel straightened abruptly from his slump, turning around. He smoothed his hands down the front of his jacket and put his shoulders back. Steeling himself, it seemed. "No, I'm not - there's too much going on here. The First - needs to be dealt with before anything else. And Wes is smart. He'll come up with something." Angel slumped again - looked at the sky. "I need to get back. I need to - I'll tell Cordy you were thinking of her, Xander. She...still thinks of you sometimes. You were her first real love, you know?"_

 

_*Can't believe he said that,*_ Xander thought drowsily, and there was quiet laughter from Oz.

_*Maybe being a dad makes you less...selfish,*_ Oz thought.

_*Maybe....*_ Angel had left after that - had crouched down one last time and reached hesitantly to touch Spike's cheek. _"Take care of your family,"_ and Spike had pushed into his touch for one moment and then nodded, and Angel had gone. And they'd sat for another hour or so, just thinking - drifting - remembering.

_"My heart beat like a hammer...my arms wound around you tight…_   
_And stars fell on Alabama last night…."_

 

Three days later, Tara and Giles and Ethan were still tweaking the spell, and Xander wanted to put his fist through the wall because Spike was _worse_ \- was worse every day. The Potentials didn't help - their combined noise and peculiar energy signal had set Spike off more than once, and Xander would find himself dragging Spike off of them, just barely keeping the vampire from snapping necks. Or having to hunt for him, when the link suddenly went strange and static-laden and Spike would find a corner - a bolt hole - and just hunker down, trying to out-talk or out-scream the voices that battered at him - the memories that threatened his equilibrium and confused him into frenzy - or catatonia.

Today was bad, and it was barely past five in the afternoon. Spike was in the front room, curtains drawn and a fire burning in the hearth. He'd tried to burn his journals but Xander had stopped him - sent them off with Oz to a hiding place because he was sure Spike would want them when all this was done. At the moment he had two spiral notebooks he'd taken from Dawn, and he'd torn out most of the paper - torn the pages into smaller pieces and was writing on them. Writing his memories but they kept _changing_ \- from minute to minute, even - and he was getting frantic. Every time a memory changed, Spike would write it down again, and he was surrounded by a patchwork of torn, smeared paper. Muttering under his breath, his right hand knotted in his hair, his left clutching a pen.

Xander was watching him, sitting on the hearth; casually between Spike and the fire but his heart was pounding. Spike's hand twisted in his hair and he scribbled something, then he looked up at Xander, his expression bewildered.

"It's no good, you know - if you keep changing it I'll never get done. Never get done...." He looked back down at the papers, scrabbled in a drift of them and pulled out a crumpled piece, lips moving as he read over it. Xander realized he hadn't actually been looking at _him_ \- he'd been looking behind him - beyond him - at some ghost.

_*Spike? Spike, I'm right here, love -*_ Xander thought, and Spike flinched. His whole body arched _away_ from Xander and his hand clenched down over his ear, fingertips digging into his scalp, his eyes wide and fearful.

"Get out of my head, get out of my head, get _out of my **head**!_ " He screamed the last, launching himself at Xander, knocking him back into the stones of the hearth. "What the _fuck_ do you think you're _doing_?" Spike's hands dug into Xander's shoulders, and his knee was pressed into Xander's hip - into his thigh, holding him down. "Fucking _chip_ in my head, cracked me open like a fucking _egg_ , put your needles and your fire and your _fingers_ in me, in _me_ \- did you think I wouldn't _remember_ -?" Spike shook him, hard, and Xander scrabbled at him, trying to push him back, the heat of the fire painful all along his right side, the rough stones tearing his back.

_*Oz! Help me -*_ "Spike - it's okay, it's okay, there's nothing in your head, Jack fixed it, remember? Jack fixed it -" Pounding footsteps and then Oz was crouching down a few feet away, panting.

"Spike? Hey, man - you wanna let him up?"

"What do you _want_?" Spike let Xander go, but he hadn't, it seemed, heard Oz - he was backing into a corner, his fists over his ears, hunching in on himself with every step until his back hit a wall and he slid down it. " _No_ , nonono. I didn't kill her, she isn't dead, and _he's_ not dead - they're _not_ -"

"Spike! Spike, please - " Xander pushed himself to his feet, holding his hands out to Spike, willing him to come back. Out of the corner of his eye Xander could see Potentials gathering _*like fuckin' vultures!*_ and he was desperate to wake Spike up - get him up and out of there, back to their room.

"It doesn't matter, doesn't matter - family, family's here, _you're_ not family, I _know_ you -" Spike leaped upright, snarling, and then he saw the Potentials and checked, staring. Looked sideways at Xander, holding very, very still. _*Xander. What are we doing here? Angelus is here. This was stupid, we need to **go**. He'll hurt you love, he will, he will -*_ Spike sidled towards Xander, and Xander held his hand out. Spike took it - squeezed it hard enough to hurt. "It's all gone to bits and bobs, love - it's all - so much chaff." He gestured at the papers scattered on the floor; turned to Xander with a look of utter desperation. "Help me find it, please love? Help me?" he begged.

Xander felt fury and desperation boiling off of Oz - felt it rising in his own body, enough to make him breathless for a moment. _*Calm, calm - have to be calm -*_ Oz didn't _look_ calm, and Xander nodded helplessly - wished the Potentials would go _away_.

"Of course I'll help, love - what are you trying to find? Tell me and I'll help."

"When we danced, Xander, when we - you _saw_ me - you wanted me...." Spike crouched down, sifting through the papers, his eyes streaming tears now, but he didn't seem to notice them. "I remember...I _see_ it...I want the words back, Xander, I want - want the song back. She said it didn't happen but I'm _sure_ I didn't make it up.... You're alive, aren't you? Aren't you alive?"

"Course I am, Spike - look at me." Xander put his fingers gently under Spike's chin - turned his head until he was looking straight at him. "I'm alive, love - I'm here no matter what. Oz is here, too." Spike's eyes flicked, glancing at Oz, then back to Xander.

"It's all _here_ , it's all here, I just have to find it -" Spike scrabbled desperately through the bits of paper and Xander started to help him - just picking pieces up randomly and looking at them, because he had no idea if Spike had written anything down about that night.

_*Oz - God - what are we gonna do, it's worse, it's so much worse -*_

_*Gonna be okay - we'll **fix** it, Xander, we will...love you...love you.*_ Oz was pushing more of the papers towards Spike, his hands shaking. The sound of an engine outside and the slam of a door and Derio was standing in the doorway, dumping a box of mail to the floor and crossing the room in long, rapid strides.

_*What happened - protect protect -*_

_*It's all right, it's - it's the same,*_ Xander thought, and Derio slumped onto the hearth, watching Spike - pushing _*love family love love*_ with every breath and Spike glanced up at him and smiled.

"Gonna pay the piper, yeah? You can pipe them back to hell, don't you think wolfling?"

"Who, Spike? Pipe...who?" Derio sometimes played a little pennywhistle, and he'd been teaching Dawn some simple tunes.

"All those - girls. All those - _bitches_." Spike's voice dropped to a hiss and he _moved_ , faster than any of them could react. Had Xander off his feet, in a choke-hold. His back against the wall and Xander could feel him - feel the change in the link and felt the ridges of the demon's face against his cheek. "You think I didn't _see them_? Waiting? Not going to touch me, not going to touch what's _mine_. You should be mine, love, should be mine -" Spike nuzzled into Xander's neck - bit down on the claim-scar, drawing tiny beads of blood.

"I am yours, Spike - yours already. Can't you feel it? Can't you -" _*I'm here, love! I'm here - inside you. All yours.*_

" _No_." Spike snarled, and his arms tightened around Xander, cutting off his breath for a moment. "Just another fucking _trick_. Only one way to make you mine for _sure_ , love. Won't hurt, promise it won't hurt…."

"Spike - please -" Xander couldn't move - couldn't breathe. He didn't know what to do. Spike could bite him - could drain him. Spike could - _would_ \- and he...didn't care. _Didn't care_. But he was very, very sure that Spike would regret it - would _hate_ it. If only because he wasn't asking, he was taking. _*Spike - Spike, please -*_ But the link is a void now, only Oz's and Derio's fear and helplessness.

Spike's fangs were in his throat - Oz and Derio were launching themselves, changing before his eyes and Xander felt the silver-needle penetration and then - Spike was _screaming_ , he was holding his head in both hands and Xander was dropping with him to the floor, grabbing him tight and Oz piled on - Derio did - trying to sooth Spike as he writhed, _*agony*_ in the link like nothing they'd ever felt.

"Spike, what, tell me what's happening! Shhhhh, shhhhh....it's all right, please, please -"

"Xander - Xander -" _*Don't let me, don't let me hurt you, please - chains, drugs, something, I can't **stop** it, Xander - wolfling, please -*_ Spike was crying - clinging to them - and the Potentials were everywhere and Giles and Tara were rushing in, and Buffy and then Faith and oh _God_ , too many people, too many.

_*Derio, where's that bag, where's that junk Angel left -*_ The duffle of money had just the day before paid for new tires on Anya's car - she was the official 'chauffeur' for the mansion - and another half-dozen air mattresses, and it was tucked safely away into a hidey-hole Spike had used when he'd lived there before. The drugs - were elsewhere - but Derio knew where and he trotted out of the room, brought them in while the crowd of girls milled and asked too many questions and the link was overwhelmed with the misery and terror that had swamped Spike.

Derio put the duffle down - opened it and looked helplessly at the jumble of plastic and tape-wrapped bundles inside. "I don't - know what to do with it," he said, and Xander could only shake his head. Oz looked worried, thoughtful, but it was Ethan who pushed forward, frowning, a small surge of his signature chaos washing over them.

"So the plan, I take it, is to dope him unconscious?"

"It's all I can think of," Xander mumbled, and Spike burrowed into his chest - clutched at Oz and Derio, desperate to have them close.

"I can help you," Ethan said after a moment, worrying his lip between his teeth.

"Please -" Xander said.

It didn't take long. A lighter and a spoon and a hypodermic from a bee-sting kit, and Xander watched, narrow-eyed, as Ethan tapped the syringe gently, getting a bubble to move to the top. "Will this do it, Spike?" he asked, holding the thing up and Spike eyed the three inches of fluid in the hypo.

"Yeah," he rasped, his voice gone. "That'll knock me out for - ten or more hours. Do it, yeah?" 

_*Love you....are you sure? Spike -*_

_*Have to. I almost.... Xander, it would **kill** Oz and Derio if I tried to turn them. The wolf and the demon can't live in the same body. We **have** to. Just until - until Glinda finds the cure.*_

_*Love you, love you!*_

_*Family, love you, pack, pack, pack....*_ Derio was crying, silent tears tracking his cheeks, and Oz held him close. Both of them had a death-grip on Spike - hand and wrist, tangling with Xander and as close as they could get to him.

_*Love you both...family, my family, Xander...*_ Ethan was carefully scouting for vein and Spike snarled, vamping.

"Put it in my fuckin' neck, mage. Best place for it." Ethan winced but he did it - slid the little needle in and depressed the plunger and it was only minutes - less than five - and Spike was slumping in Xander's arms. The sudden and incredible burst of pleasure through the link faded to nothing as he slipped into unconsciousness. Xander held him close - buried his face in Spike's shoulder for a moment, crying silently. He looked up at the sea of faces; at Ethan methodically cleaning the hypo and putting it all away; at the Potentials staring and Buffy looking so, so somber, and Dawn crying into Sinclair's fur. Tara was the only one to move - to push forward and join them, her cool energy washing over them, more and more tangible every day.

"Xander - it's going to be okay. We figured it out. The ss-spell. We can fix it."

 

They decided to do the spell as soon as Spike was awake, which would be around three or four in the morning. Xander wasn't sure about it - he couldn't imagine that the lingering traces of drug in Spike's system would help the spell work _better_ \- but Giles reassured him again and again that vampiric metabolism being what it was, once Spike actually woke _up_ , he'd be back to normal in no time.

The vampire lay unmoving and Xander lay with him, craving the physical contact. The drug seemed to flatten Spike out in the link, so that all that was left was a strange sort of remote humming. There were bursts of emotion from time to time, as if Spike was dreaming, and occasional images as well, but they were scattershot and dim. It took all of Xander's concentration to catch those stray images, and he was pretty sure Oz and Derio didn't catch them at all. He was glad, though - they weren't all...nice.

Sometime around nine o'clock Xander had been persuaded to take a break, and he wandered downstairs looking for something to drink. Everyone, it seemed, was in the main room having sandwiches and soup, talking quietly. Anya was there, and Drake, and when Xander got to the foot of the stairs Dawn squealed, bouncing to her feet and jogging over to him. Sinclair complained loudly from her arms and Dawn let the Siamese down to the floor. He stalked off, looking offended.

"Xander! Is Spike okay? Is he still - asleep?"

"Yeah. He's fine, Dawn. He'll be fine."

"Yeah...." _*Brother love love family*_ in the link from her, and Xander put his arm around her and hugged her. "Hey! Anya has some news!" Dawn was bouncing again, trusting that he was right, and Xander dredged up a smile for the newly-blonde ex-demon who was cuddled up on the couch with Drake, Potentials on the floor all around her like a Queen and her court.

"News, huh? What's the news, Anya? Something good, I hope."

"Well, _we_ certainly think so. And of course, it's the sort of news that requires a party! With presents!"

"Yeah?"

"Oh, yes." Anya smiled at Drake, who smiled back and curled his hand around hers on his thigh. "I'm going to reproduce, Xander!" At Xander's blank look, Anya frowned a little. "Spawn? Breed? Uh - replicate?"

"We're having a baby," Drake said, rolling his eyes, and Xander blinked.

"You - are? Wow! Uh - congratulations!" _*Jesus! A baby!*_ he thought, and heard a mental chuckle from Oz.

_*Been known to happen, to married people.*_

_*But - so soon! I mean - Jesus!*_

_*All of Drake's family must have inspired her,*_ Derio thought, and Xander had to agree. Anya _had_ been impressed with Drake's enormous family - with great-grand this and that living side by side with second and third generation nieces, cousins, grandchildren. She'd said how wonderful it must be, to have so many people to count on.

_*Pack,*_ Oz added, and Xander nodded to himself.

"You don't seem very excited for us," Anya said, pouting a little, and Xander had to smile. He stepped over some Potentials and a begging Miss Kitty and bent down to give Anya a kiss on the cheek.

"Course I'm excited, Anya! I was just - a little surprised. I didn't know you were gonna have kids so soon."

"The sooner the better, Xander. I'm a healthy woman but my biological clock is in an irrevocable countdown to old age, sterility, and brittle bones! No time to waste! Besides -" Anya looked over at Drake and _smiled_ , her love for him so plain on her face - so achingly _there_. "Drake is very good with children and we'll be traveling for _years_ , showing it off to the family."

"Oh, that's so romantic -" one of the Potentials sighed, and immediately a chorus of voices joined in, talking about babies, plans - families. Xander squeezed Drake's shoulder, smiling at him, and made his way into the kitchen. Soup in a big pot on the stove, sandwich things on the counter and he assembled a hasty meal and sat down to eat it. Sinclair came in and jumped up on the windowsill nearby, watching him. He could hear Giles, Ethan and Tara somewhere close, talking.

_*Gonna be okay, gonna be okay,*_ he thought, desperate for it to be _over_. He almost wished he was on patrol with Faith and Buffy - anything to break the tension. But he couldn't have left the house - left Spike - if he'd tried. He ate, and went back upstairs, and waited.

 

"The spell really packed a punch when Willow used it," Tara said, so they'd dragged all the exercise mats from the Magic Box into the center of the 'library' room and laid Spike down on them - arranged themselves next to him. Tara had to be able to touch them both, so she was sitting cross-legged by Spike's shoulders and Xander was next to her. He held Spike's hand tightly in his, waiting. The vampire wasn't fully awake yet; he was talking to himself in a slurred mumble, twitching uncomfortably.

Giles and Ethan were finishing drawing a circle around them in colored chalk on the stone floor - a circle to keep everything Tara was doing in, and anything else out. Buffy, Faith and Dawn were sitting at the edge of the room, silent, and Oz and Derio were just on the other side of the circle. Derio was fighting the tension - fighting the change - and Oz was trying to calm him down, the wolf-mantra a low hum in the link.

"Now, when he's awake we'll say the word, and the circle will be closed. Then Tara, you may begin." Giles stood up slowly, his hand pressed to the small of his back, and Ethan stepped up close to him, his slim hand going out to rub slowly over the sore muscles. Giles blinked and sighed in pleasure.

Spike moved on the mats - twisted this way and that and suddenly his eyes snapped open and he was staring straight at Xander. Demon's eyes, and nothing in them Xander could recognize.

"Spike? Hey - you awake? Gonna do something here -" Xander squeezed his hand and Spike pushed himself upright, grimacing. The link was confusion, chaotic and unfocused.

"Carpenter...." Spike mumbled, staring narrow-eyed at him and Xander felt himself go cold. "Carpenter on your cross - you always gonna martyr yourself for those that don't give a fuck, _carpenter_? Die for the world and they won't even remember your name...." Spike pulled his hand free of Xander's - looked around and then winced, clutching his head.

"Fuck… _fuck_ -" _*Xander? What are we doing? What - why is everybody here?*_

Xander shivered, hating the shifts of perception and emotion that were dredging up all his old insecurities. That were making him think and re-think his reasons for being there, because nothing they did seemed to have any effect at all on the First - but _It_ was taking them to pieces. _*Spell, love - remember? Spell to fix the forgetting. Tara's going to do it.*_

Spike looked at Tara - reached out and touched her cheek. "You're not dead then, love? Dreamed you were dead...."

Tara smiled softly at him. "No, I'm not dead, Spike. Are you ready?"

Spike had smiled back; now the smile faded and he looked around, bewildered. His gaze settled on Xander and he reached out and took his hand again, squeezing hard. "Is it - it won't hurt him, will it? I don't want to hurt him…."

"No - it won't hurt." Tara nodded to Ethan, and he and Giles both bent and touched a small stone that finished the circle.

" _Totus_ ," they breathed, and a sudden, shivery veil seemed to come up between them and the rest of the room. Xander flinched a little; the magic was _strong_ and felt like dust in his nose - sand in his hair - poison ivy.

_*That's fucking horrible. Xander - love...so sorry-*_

_* **Don't** , Spike. None of this is your fault. **None** of it. Hear me? Love you - **love** you, vampire-mine.*_

_*Love you too...my own, my always....*_

Xander's hand was almost crushed in the grip Spike had on it, but he didn't care. Tara was taking a long, slow breath. She put the fingertips of her left hand on Spike's temple, and her right on Xander's, and smiled at them. Then she closed her eyes. " _Repleo,_ " on a sigh.

And then Xander thought - _"Tara was wrong"_ , because it _did_ hurt.

 

"Xander? Love - wake up for me. Xander, c'mon - c'mon, pet, wake up...." Soft voice, soft hand on his cheek patting gently and Xander forced his eyes open. They felt gritty and swollen, and the light was too bright. He blinked and squinted, groaning a little, and felt a cool hand touch his forehead.

"Spike?" _*Ow, damn.*_

"Throat hurt? Here, love -" Something pressing against his lips, cool and smooth and liquid and he opened his mouth and drank.

_*Oooh....*_ Spice and iron and tingling, bubbling magic, and Xander closed his eyes and drank Spike's blood, feeling it go through him like wildfire. _*Oh - Spike - you all right? Did it work? What happened?*_ Spike's other hand stroked his hair and Xander gradually realized he was lying on his back, his head in Spike's lap. He opened his eyes and Spike lifted his wrist away from Xander's mouth - licked the bit of blood that was still there, smiling.

"It worked, love. Worked a treat." Spike's eyes were so very blue - so vividly alive and full of love and happiness that Xander couldn't help himself - he reached up and pulled Spike down and kissed him, lingering over the taste of Spike's blood, and the taste of _Spike_ ; cream and cloves, as addictive as ever - as wonderful.

A gentle clearing of a throat finally made him stop and Xander let Spike ease him upright, grinning sheepishly at Giles who was looking the other way and at Ethan, who wasn't. He leaned there, Spike's arms around him, feeling the rising flush of the blood going through him. In another minute or so he'd want to jump up - go out patrolling or -

_*Or? I can think of better things to do with all that energy, pet. Lay you down and make you scream for it....*_ Xander shivered happily, turning his head to nuzzle Spike's cheek. He saw Oz and Derio a few feet away and Tara leaning between them. She looked - 

_*Is Tara all right? Is she hurt?*_

_*Fine, she's fine, love,*_ Spike thought, hugging him close.

_*Xander! Love you, love you -*_ Oz, smiling over at him and holding Tara up, and Derio grinning, almost laughing.

_*Love you too! Familia, mi familia….*_

"Oh!" Tara looked dazedly over at them, her expression delighted and amazed. "I didn't know - that's what it's like...." She seemed to realize something then and blushed a brilliant scarlet and Spike laughed, the vibrations rippling through Xander. The link - felt so _good_. It felt alive, whole, _full_ , and Xander laughed too.

_*What is she talking about?*_

_*She got the memories, too. I think - she'll forget in time. But for right now, they're all there.*_

_*She did? Oh… **oh**! Oh, God....*_

_*Family, love - you'll live.*_

_*May never be able to look her in the face again,*_ Xander thought, and he twisted so he could get Spike tight into his arms and just hold on, face in Spike's neck, chest to chest, hugging as hard as he could and feeling Spike hugging him back, kissing his hair and neck and cheek, laughing again in sheer delight. And it just felt so good.

 

 

______________________  
 _Stars Fell on Alabama_ \- Billie Holiday  
 _Totus_ \- Complete  
 _Repleo_ \- Replenish


	22. Allies

_"Tell me - what you see. Tell me - make me real, Spike - m-make me real."_

_"I'll make you real...I see you - demonslayer...builder... knight in patchwork armor... oohhh...You are... lover...brother...strong right arm...you are... s-sunlight... hearth fire... oh gods."_

Spike arched and swayed over him, his eyes golden and glowing in the dim lemon light of the dawn. His gaze never left Xander's. Their hands were locked together, fingers entwined above Xander's head. Lifting and sinking down, slow, slow climb to the peak - to the climax - and then he would still, and wait, kissing and whispering - _remembering._

_"What are you doing to me, love, what…?"_

_"Knowing you. Learning you." *loving, loving you...want every inch of you*_

"Still do," Xander murmured, kissing Spike's face, the so-familiar planes of the demon; kissing his arms where they rested just above his shoulders. Kissing his mouth and not caring if the fangs drew pin-pricks of blood. "Still do, always will, love you - _ohh_ \- Spike...love you, love you...."

"My knight, my love...my always...." Spike kissed back just the same, on every bit of skin he could reach, and Xander just wanted to crush him closer - feel every inch - never _stop_ feeling it. Two weeks since the spell and Spike still needed to remember, and Xander still needed to know he was _there_ , and that all was well.

_*God, love you so fucking much...never want you not there, love, never want you gone from me….*_

_*Xander...Xander...always my own…. Always always always....*_

"Always, vampire-mine... You make me - gods - you make me real, make me -"

"Make you mine," Spike whispered, and his fangs sank slowly into Xander's throat as his body sank slowly down, one more time. Xander arched in blind, silent ecstasy, his own teeth clamping down and the blood was _*cool spice darklife magic*_ dancing over his tongue, making the link sing, making his body writhe and shudder for long ,long minutes. The cool striping of Spike's semen across his chest made him shiver and Spike collapsed over him, burying his face in the crook of Xander's neck. Slow trail of his tongue over the scar, hands still locked together and Xander's fingers rubbing over Spike's.

"Never get tired of this...of you." Xander whispered, and Spike kissed his way up to Xander's mouth and then kissed his mouth, slow and sweet and his heart on his lips like always. Glorying in what they had - in how they'd gotten there. Remembering because he _could._

_"...It's not just because of that. Every time they do something like that - every hypocritical, petty thing - puts its mark on them. They're staining themselves - making themselves less. And for what? So they can lord it over one vampire who can't hurt them. It's - degrading, to both of you. And I won't put up with it any more."_

_"My knight in patchwork armor…."_

 

Xander had to smile at that memory, and how angry he'd been - how terrified of the Scoobies discovering their secret. And how little he cared, any more, what anyone thought.

_*Wouldn't give this up for anything in the world,*_ he thought, and Spike eased himself up and off of Xander - settled into a tight clinch, sighing in contentment and letting the purr grumble rustily up out of his chest. _*Who'd give up their own giant kitty-cat?*_ Xander giggled softly at the blast of mental denial from Spike.

_*M'growling. Real soft. I keep telling you...vampires are not cats and we do not purr.*_

_*But you still look fabulous in a collar,*_ Xander replied, and groaned softly as Spike's mental gears slipped and he sent a flood of highly erotic images, mostly starring Xander.

_*No better than you do, pet. Wear it for me on patrol some time - wear it in the house...?*_

_*Christ -*_ Xander shifted and arched a little, his cock responding to that suggestion quite happily. _*Wearin' me out, vampire-mine.*_

_*Love to, pet. Have. Will.*_ But Spike just settled a little closer and kissed his neck, soft and slow, and Xander knew that if anything was going to happen it was going to take a while. Spike was in _that_ sort of mood. 

_*Love that mood,*_ he thought fondly, and Spike petted him through the link. _*Oh, yeah...love it.*_

 

When they managed to make it out of bed sometime around three, Oz and Derio were still a tangled lump in their own bed, and the house was still and shuttered - quiet like it almost never was at that time of day. The Bringers - the First - had been quiet too, and Buffy and Faith were both spoiling for a fight. They trained the Potentials hard every day - took them on patrols in groups and Sunnydale hadn't ever been quite so demon-free. Of course, that was also because a lot of demons were _leaving_ Sunnydale - and a lot of humans as well. Something had finally gotten through the collective blind eye most of Sunnydale turned to things of a supernatural origin, and there were 'For Sale' and 'Going out of Business' signs all over the town. It was kind of creepy, and it made them all a little edgy.

Giles and Ethan hadn't found anything new on the First either, and Tara reported no news from the L.A. gang in her nightly online chats with Fred. _That_ was a source of quiet amusement and hope for their pack - Tara seemed truly taken with Fred, and glowed with humor and good spirits after every talk. They all hoped she'd found someone - a friend or a lover, they didn't care.

"Wonder where everybody is?" Xander asked, shuffling into the kitchen with Spike attached, limpet-like, to his back, pale arms around his ribs and his mouth gently worrying the claim scar.

_*Don't care. First got 'em,*_ Spike thought, and he made no effort to dodge the half-hearted slap Xander aimed at his ass.

"Stop that." Xander pulled open the 'fridge and peered inside. "Mmm...leftover lasagna. Want some?"

"Too much garlic, not enough pesto," Spike grumbled, finally letting go and moving over to the stove. He shook the kettle and went to the sink to fill it, and fifteen minutes later they were both at the table, Xander scarfing lasagna and Spike drinking his doctored tea. Sinclair and Miss Kitty were both sitting bolt upright on the floor between them, looking upwards expectantly at Xander.

"Don't even think it," Xander told them, mock-glaring. "You're both getting spoiled rotten and I'm _not_ sharing my food with you." Spike snorted in amusement and pulled his cigarettes out of his pocket, lighting up with a sigh. There was the slap of footsteps and Dawn appeared, four large books piled in her arms. She squeaked in surprise and dropped the books on the table.

"Hey! You guys are up!" She went around behind Spike towards the 'fridge, patting him on the shoulder in passing and Xander smirked at the look on Spike's face, that was a mixture of annoyance and fondness. 

_*Starting to act like I'm some kinda house pet,*_ Spike grumped. _*Need to take her out on patrol tonight, let her get a couple bruises - see a little action.*_

_*Put the fear of the Big Bad back into her?*_ Xander was trying not to grin around his mouthful of food and Spike shot him a narrow-eyed look. Dawn messily scooped out lasagna onto a plate and shoved it in the microwave, licking her fingers.

_*Bit needs to be reminded that there's nasties out there - they're not all like her puppies upstairs*_ Xander glanced over at Dawn and then he deliberately remembered several instances of Spike helping Dawn, in particular, Spike helping her with her English, reading out loud to her, snuggled on the couch in Xander's flannel shirt.

_*'Cause you're not at all...fluffy or cute.*_

_*You're just **begging** for a spanking.*_ Spike thought, looking up at Xander through his lashes and Xander didn't believe it was possible but his cock stirred in his jeans.

"So - where is everybody, Dawn?" he asked, loftily ignoring Spike's molasses-dark, too-knowing chuckle.

"Oh! Don't you know? No, you guys were...uh… _sleeping_." Dawn gave them an eye-roll and something too close to a knowing leer and Xander shot Spike an exasperated look. Spike did his best to look innocent, but sitting there with a tea-cup and a half-empty bottle of whiskey, his cigarette smoke curling around his white-blonde, spiked head, he looked anything but.

"Johnathan called - that guy Andrew almost killed? He was getting out of the hospital this morning and the ambulance brought somebody in. A Potential." Dawn got her plate out of the microwave and grabbed a soda - settled opposite Xander and Spike, pushing her stack of books aside. "He said she was hurt pretty badly but she was talking and he heard her say to contact Buffy Summers." Dawn stabbed at her lasagna, looking anxious. She'd been visiting Johnathan in the hospital ever since he'd been hurt, and had gotten to like him quite a bit.

"So - did the hospital call here?" Xander finished the last of his own food and pushed his plate away, and Spike lit a second cigarette, making room for Sinclair on his lap. The cat sniffed at Spike's tea and then started kneading, purring loudly enough to make the three of them smile. Miss Kitty came around the table and fixed her gaze on Dawn, instead.

"No - the cell phones aren't listed and we had the old number turned off when we moved here. He called and said he was going to stick around the hospital and - and see what happened. She had to go into surgery, I don't know if she's out or not." Dawn ate a forkful of lasagna and Spike looked over at Xander.

_*Guess the First isn't gonna be quiet forever, after all.*_

_*Guess not....*_ "So - is Buffy at the hospital?"

" _Everybody_ is! Well, not Faith - she went to talk to some guys she knows down at the docks - that's where they found her. She took some of the girls with her. And Giles and Ethan went to some bookstore up in Santa Barbara, they got a lead on something, they think." Dawn gulped her soda - wiped her mouth on a paper towel. "I think some of the girls were gonna - you know - ditch. They wanted to get some down-time."

"Huh." Spike crushed out his cigarette and scrubbed his fingers through Sinclair's fur, then stood up, putting the cat on the floor. "As long as they keep their wits about 'em." _*Goin' to find Glinda,*_ he thought, and Xander nodded.

"I think I need some more lasagna," Xander said to nobody in particular and got up, heading for the fridge. _*Good. Don't - freak her out, okay? It's probably nothing.*_

_*I wouldn't hurt her for the world, pet. You know that.*_

_*I know that.*_ Xander grinned over at Spike, who grinned back and sauntered out.

 

The mansion was mostly dim - shutters and curtains almost permanently closed so Spike didn't have to dodge sunbeams. Kennedy had made it a practice to leave key ones open, trying to trap him, but he'd ambushed her on patrol three nights ago and wore her out in the name of 'training', and she'd left off.

Spike smirked to himself. She was fun to go after, mostly because she didn't seem to ever misplace her snotty _'I am Slayer, bow down'_ attitude. He was enjoying punching a few holes in her façade. He closed his eyes for a moment, orienting himself and then moved toward the back of the house, to the room they'd set up as a library.

Delivery trucks arrived almost daily with books from the old Watchers Headquarters; the Pembrokes were making great headway there, and their skills as archaeologists were coming in _more_ than handy when it came to rescuing half-torched books and other, less identifiable paraphernalia from the ruins.

He could _feel_ Tara back there - had felt her more and more, since they'd come back. Her growing finesse with magic and her growing confidence seemed to feed the subtle aura that surrounded her, and her essential 'pack-ness' made her easy to tune into. Spike could feel warmth from her - joy - a rock-solid, root-deep serenity that was the core of the blonde witch. Unshakable and capable of carrying a load that seemed impossibly heavy. 

_*Don't want you to labor under a burden though, Glinda. Talk to me now.*_

Since the spell - there was something else. A hesitation in her, and a withdrawal. Whenever Spike got too close he could feel a flinch, even if outwardly she didn't show a thing. And it...hurt. He had to know what was wrong. Spike walked quietly into the library, where Tara was reading intently something on the laptop they'd bought. The heroin money had been a godsend, since nobody had a job anymore, and Giles was still wading through red tape to get the greater part of the Council funds released to him. The heroin itself was safely stashed away, a hedge against future need. Something most of the household was ignorant of.

"Hey, Glinda," Spike said, and she turned to look at him, blinking in a dazed fashion for a moment, her mind obviously focused on what she'd been reading. Then she _saw_ him, and a hesitant smile crossed her lips. But she - _flinched_. Spike throttled down the anxiety he felt and dropped down cross-legged at her feet.

"Hey, Spike," she said softly.

"Tara...you have to tell me." Spike stopped and took a deep breath. "Tell me what's the matter, pet? You're - scared of me. Why are you scared of me?"

Tara opened her mouth and then closed it - looked down at her hands that were twisting together in her lap. "I - I'm not scared of you, Spike -"

"Love, _please_ , I can feel you - pulling back from me."

Tara shot him a wet, wide-eyed look and then nodded, letting her hair fall forward to hide her face. "It's - it's my problem, Spike. I'm doing my be-best." Spike reached out slowly and touched her hand and she froze for a moment and then slid her fingers into his, squeezing tight. "It's the memories, Spike. They're - taking a long time to go away and...and I've seen...so _much_...so many th-things that happened and…."

"Things _I_ did, pet? Is that it?" Spike waited for her reply, his stomach twisting into a painful knot.

"Yeah." Tara sighed, her shoulders slumping. But then she sat up immediately, dashing her free hand across her face. "It's stupid, Spike. I know that - that you've changed. I know - I _remember_ \- how you feel about Xander and - and Oz and Derio. About Dawn...."

"And you, too. Don't forget you," Spike murmured, and Tara flashed a shaky smile at him.

"And me. I don't want to - remember the past but sometimes it just…." She trailed away, shaking her head helplessly, and Spike leaned slowly forward until his forehead was resting on her knee.

"Glinda - please don't...please don't pull away from me. You're _family_ , pet, you're - part of me. Part of _us_. I can't - can't lose you -"

"No! No...shhhh...." Tara's body was stiff with tension and then Spike felt her hand rest lightly on his bowed head - slowly and hesitantly stroke his hair. "I won't leave you. I promise. What I've felt is so amazing...I don't - understand it all. Just - let me... I just need a little time, Spike. Please?" Her voice was thick with sorrow and Spike rubbed his head slowly back and forth on her skirt-draped knee.

"Please, Tara - please don't...I would never, ever hurt you. Never hurt the family. You know that, right? You know that?" He looked up at her, feeling soft encouragement from Xander, and Tara smiled at him - a crooked and sad smile, but a smile.

"I know you wouldn't. I _know_...I'm working on it, Spike, I promise. I'm - I've been t-talking to..." She stopped, blushing, and Spike smiled a little.

"Talkin' to your sweetheart?" he said softly, and Tara's blush deepened, but she squeezed his hand a little tighter in hers.

"She's - Fred's not...I mean, sh-she...I've been talking to her about - all of this. She...she has some good ideas. I'll work it out, Spike. I really will. I - I know what you are, inside." She reached and touched his chest, and her fingers seemed to send a tiny sizzle of electricity through him - a tiny jolt of summer-scented lightning. "I know what's in here - demon, _and_ a soul. And...you never had anybody care about the soul before. Not until Xander. It's - changed you."

"Can't help being changed when somebody loves you like that," Spike whispered, and Tara leaned forward and rested her cheek on his for a moment - kissed him fleetingly, smelling of mint and marjoram and dill - of magic.

"I know. And you have. In a lot of ways. I promise...we're still f-family, Spike."

"All I needed to hear, love. Couldn't let you go if I tried, you know?" Spike reached and tucked her silky hair back behind her ear - let his fingers rest for a moment on the warm swell of her cheek. The demon shifted inside, wanting more and better confirmation of _*family ours pack*_. But Spike - couldn't appease it that way.

"You - do you believe me, Spike?" Tara asked, frowning just a little, and Spike snatched his hand back, knowing that he'd given something away in that touch.

"I - know you won't leave, Glinda. It's the demon in me, is all. It wants -"

"Something else." Tara's eyes had a shuttered look to them, as if she was going deep inside herself for something, and Spike wanted to shake her - call her back. Her fingers were tight in his, not letting him retreat. "I - know...." She looked at him, and suddenly her power was _there_ \- was all around him. Warm and rich as mulled wine, complex as the branching pattern of veins on a leaf and as solid and simple as the taproot that anchors the tree. Power that thrummed like a hive of bees, drowsy and somehow furry and lethal if stirred.

"Spike? Will you...sh-show me it, Spike. Show me the demon." Her eyes were on his like searchlights - like suns. Blinding him a bit, making him suck in a hard breath. He knew Xander was coming, striding through the house, Dawn right behind. He could feel Oz and Derio waking, agitated, and the change coming over them as they shook free of the bedding and bounded out of the room - down the stairs. But _Tara_...compelled him. Called the demon forth and he shivered, a growl coming up in his chest and shattering the thrumming air.

The demon rose - and _pushed_ \- wanting more, wanting to be _out_. Heeding the call that was the witch's power and Spike let it have its will. For once and all, let it have full rein. He felt the shift in bone and muscle, his face rearranging to the demon's features. But this time it happened all over and he knew his spine was sharper - more ridged. Knew the joints of body were more angled, and his hands longer - his nails more like claws. The demon manifesting itself as it _never_ did. It never had the need, but this time - it was _Tara_ that called it. Siren-song of _*love family please let me see mine ours yours.*_

He heard the stifled gasp from Dawn - the amazement and fascination from Xander. Claws scrabbled on stone and the wolves were there, stalking stiff-legged up to them. 

_*What's she doing? Spike - you....*_ from Oz, wonder and trust in the link, and _*pack pack pack,*_ from Derio, shivers of delight as Tara's aura surrounded them. As Xander got closer - as Dawn did - Tara's power enfolded them as well and suddenly Dawn was _in_ the link like she never had been before and _*fear surprise awe oh my God, my God, this is family, this is what it means!*_

Tara looked up at them - at Xander hovering over Spike's shoulder, his arm around Dawn. At the wolves who'd book-ended themselves on either side of her, muzzles resting on her thighs. "This is what it means," she said softly, and her hand went out again, to gently touch Spike's face - touch the demon. She deliberately pressed the pad of her thumb against one razor-sharp fang.

The merest drop of blood hit Spike's tongue and he felt his eyes fluttering closed - felt the growl becoming a groan as _*mother sister darklight she she she*_ coursed through the link. Tara's blood was sunlight and spring-water and the sour-sweet of sorrel. Wild strawberries and silver and earth and the taste of it - the _essence_ of it went out to all of them. Dawn was panting softly, and Xander's hand had locked down on Spike's shoulder, hard enough to hurt. The wolves lifted their muzzles, howling out an exultant song and the demon _roared._

_*Oh - God...she's so beautiful.*_ Xander thought, and Spike could feel the tears on Xander's face as if they were his own.

"To me," Tara whispered, and her power withdrew, curling back on itself like an ocean wave, coiling and twisting and winding back down, through her and back to the earth and then they were sitting there, and Xander had gone down on his knees next to Spike, and Dawn was hugging Tara and the wolves were pressing close, whining. The demon retreated, satisfied and purring with satisfaction.

_*Family pack ours mine always always always,*_ in the link from all of them, _*family brother sister love,*_ from Dawn and _*family*_ faint and soft from Tara. Spike laughed, hugging Xander hard. Family, and she was right; he was changed.

 

"So what's the up, Buffy? How's the girl?" The living room was full of Potentials - all 23 of them - and Spike and Xander had retreated to the stairs in an effort to put some distance between themselves and the jangle of the Slayer-buzz. It wasn't really working. Oz and Derio were higher still on the stairs, just as tense. It seemed to get worse when the Potentials were agitated, like they were now. It was going on nine o'clock, and they'd all been waiting for Giles and Ethan to arrive so Buffy could tell them the news. The waiting had been hard and everyone was on edge. Johnathan sat on the edge of the big leather couch, still pale-looking and as nervous as the rest of them.

"Shannon, she...." Buffy was standing in the middle of the room, and she looked...small. There were circles under her eyes, and she was twisting a piece of paper in her hands, crumpling it and uncrumpling it. "She's dead. She was really hurt -" There was a hiss of shock and fear from the Potentials - Buffy apparently hadn't told them anything. Faith, her arms tightly crossed over her chest, looked up sharply. 

"Everybody shut up. This is important," she said, and her voice was sharp as a knife. Buffy looked over at her and Faith nodded once, biting her lip.

_*Fuck. Dead? Something new or part of the First? Christ, what next?*_ Xander felt a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. Spike reached out and put his hand on Xander's knee, rubbing gently.

 

"She - was killed by a man who calls himself Caleb. She was running from Bringers, and he picked her up, then he told her that he had a message for - for me." Buffy was pacing in little circles now and she pushed her hand back through her hair, grimacing. "He told her - he has something of mine. We don't know what he has, if he really has _anything_. But - we're gonna find out who this guy is, and what he wants. We're gonna get whatever he has and he's gonna pay for killing one of ours."

Buffy stared out over the crowd of girls - looked at Dawn, who was sitting close to Tara, and looked at Giles and Ethan, who looked back, grim-faced. Buffy looked exhausted and Xander wondered if she was sleeping. She never seemed to, and the bones of her face seemed to be pushing up too close to her skin, making her skull stand out too clearly.

_*She's burning herself out. Got to get her to rest….*_

_*Good luck with that,*_ Spike thought, lighting up and holding the cigarette away, out of Xander's face. He was right - Buffy seemed to be wound tighter with each passing day and the lull in First activity hadn't made much difference.

"Johnathan - is going to help us. He said that the girl had a mark burned into her neck. Caleb - did it. So he's going to help us find the mark and maybe - find this guy. So everybody help him out." Buffy walked over to Giles and handed him the crumpled paper, and he smoothed it out, looking it over. "She said he was dressed like a - priest. Black suit and collar. So be on the lookout, okay?" Buffy looked around at them all and the silence seemed to oppress her - the weight of their gaze seemed to be too much.

"He just _stabbed_ her, and pushed her out of his truck. So - be careful. Once we find out who he is - he's gonna be history." A couple of the Potentials raised a cheer at that, and then they all did, whooping loudly. Xander felt Oz's knee in his back, and Derio's hand was on Spike's shoulder, and they didn't join in the cheer. The First - had a new ally.


	23. Sacrifices

"So you're, what, just gonna walk around, hoping a Bringer'll just...show up?" Faith was looking skeptically at Buffy and Buffy was frowning back, arms crossed and feet planted wide. Her _'I am Slayer'_ stance. But Faith had the same stance and Xander had to stifle the urge to laugh as they squared off. Faith was the one person Buffy couldn't hold Slayer-status over.

"I figure if this Caleb really wants me - us - to find him, he'll send one of the little creeps around. And Giles' spell...." Buffy looked over at Giles, who nodded, sighing.

"Yes. The spell," he replied, in a tone of long suffering. Ethan, who was reading something and making rapid, scribbling notes, glanced up at them, his fox's smile quick and toothy. He approved of the truth spell - had, in fact, practiced it on several people in the house until Giles had had a not-so-quiet word with him. The household now knew that Kennedy had a crush on Tara, Dawn and Johnathan had held hands under the dinner table for three nights running, Buffy had called Robin Wood to bring him up to speed and had agreed to go on a date with him, and _exactly_ what Spike liked about sex with Xander. Nothing Spike wouldn't have volunteered - as he'd made perfectly clear on several other occasions - but Ethan had wanted to see if the spell worked on the undead. 

_'We don't know what the Bringers **are** , really. Have to be prepared,'_ he'd said, laughing, as the mostly-horrified Potentials, Giles, and Anya had listened to Spike's recitation. Xander was pretty sure Anya had taken notes.

"Yeah, spell," Spike mumbled, face-down on the leather couch, the smirk evident in his tone, his body utterly slack, his t-shirt rucked up around his neck. Xander was straddling his thighs, running knuckles, fingertips, palms and the occasional elbow up and down Spike's back. Everyone else was clustered on the floor or the other couch, trying to plan some sort of strategy. Dawn, Johnathan, Drake and Anya had taken the Potentials shopping, as training and work-outs and the odd surge of Slayer strength were hell on their limited clothing resources. Actually, the possibility that most of the stores in Sunnydale were closed or closing meant that they were either an hour up the highway in Oxnard, or they were stealing clothes. They'd all gotten remarkably...casual about things like that as Sunnydale had emptied. Even the school was closed now, and Robin Wood had taken to patrolling with them occasionally. He seemed to be - oddly interested in Spike. It gave Xander the creeps.

"So we'll go in teams? Hit the cemeteries?" Oz was sparring with Miss Kitty, flipping her on her back and poking at her belly so she'd rabbit-kick his hand. Sinclair was watching, tail-tip barely moving as Miss Kitty writhed away and then pounced again, biting lightly, her claws just barely scoring Oz's palm.

"That's the plan. Me and Faith, you and Derio, Xander and the amazing boneless vampire." Buffy grinned at him, and Xander grinned back. Spike made a half-hearted effort to flip her off but he could barely lift his arm.

" _You_ try bein' all stick-up-your-arse when these fingers are working their magic on you, Slayer. Actually, a little something up the -"

"Stop that, evil undead," Xander admonished, grinding his elbow in and Spike groaned and somehow sagged even further, practically a puddle on the couch. He'd fought a wayward Fyarl demon the night before; had, in fact, beat it to death with a length of pipe. He'd been in a bad mood - Kennedy's fault - and Xander had been initiating cheer-up-the-grumpy-vampire sex over a tomb when they'd been interrupted. The Fyarl had gotten in a few good hits because Spike had been too pissed to duck. So Xander was working out the kinks in muscles that... well, that weren't sore at all. It was just fun.

"Okay - and if we _do_ come across one of them - what then?" Derio sat up from his sprawled position beside Oz, dreads tinkling faintly.

Buffy looked a little uncertain. "Well - we need one alive so Giles and Ethan can do the spell, so...I guess do your best not to fold, spindle or mutilate."

"Right," Oz said, and pushed Miss Kitty into Sinclair, who immediately grabbed her around the throat with his paws and tried to bowl her over. Miss Kitty fled, Sinclair in hot pursuit.

"Just - please be c-careful," Tara said, breaking a long silence. She looked up at the group, a small frown on her face. "I just feel like...you need to be careful."

"Do our best, pet," Spike said, propping his head up to smile at her, and she nodded. Faith pushed away from the wall she'd been leaning against and bumped Buffy with her shoulder.

"Let's get this party started, B. I'm itchin' to deal out a little payback."

"No folding, spindling or mutilating! Just - bruising and contusions." Buffy snagged an extra stake and they both strode out, bickering light-heartedly.

"Yup, better plow," Oz said. He stretched hard, arching up and back, hands over his head, and Derio ran an appreciative and possessive hand up his ribs. Oz folded, snorting, and rolled over onto Derio. They scuffled, half-changing and growling and Tara laughed.

"You two are j-ust like Miss Kitty and Sinclair."

"Only not as pretty," Spike muttered, and yelped when Oz pounced on him, knocking Xander back.

"Hey!" Xander scrambled to grab Oz and Derio tackled him, rolling them both to the floor with a thump, wolf's-eyes and claws, growling happily.

"Children, really -" Giles started, but there was laughter in his voice and Ethan just hugged him around the neck, kissing his cheek and whispering something that made the Watcher blush. Spike pinned Oz and lightly bit his neck - jumped to his feet, energized.

_*Up and out! Let's find this bastard and get it **done**!*_

_*Yeah - tired of this waiting and wondering crap.*_ Xander crawled to his feet, hauling Derio with him and letting himself be mauled. Derio snuffled into his neck and then kissed his cheek and bounced over to Oz. Spike was shrugging on his duster, feeling over the pockets for cigarettes, lighter, flask, weapons.

_*Pack will win. Pack!*_ Derio had gained some control in the link and he felt much better about that - didn't feel as if he were overwhelming them all with his emotions all the time. It made him - bouncy. 

_*Yes we will,*_ Xander thought, and tucked his arm into Spike's and they went out to find a Bringer.

 

Spike's cell chirped in his pocket and he yanked it out, glaring at it. Xander had forgotten to charge his. "Bloody thing," he muttered, stabbing the 'on' button. "What!"

"We got one!" Buffy yelled over the line, and Spike flinched.

"Keep it down, Slayer. All right - we'll head home. Reckon we've got some news, too."

"Great! Whoops! Grab his leg!" The phone beeped several times as Buffy apparently hit the keypad, and then went dead. Spike snapped his own phone shut and looked at the derelict winery one more time. The Bringers were swarming it like bees to a hive, and he and Xander were sure there was something of interest there - maybe even this Caleb himself. But there were too many, and it was hard to tell the layout of the building in the darkness. Better, as Xander had said, to come back in the day and scout it - maybe send Oz and Derio in wolf form.

Beside him Xander was muttering under his breath, the soldier making an increasingly more rare appearance to count visible enemy troops and memorize all kinds of details. Xander had said that for the last few months the soldier was shifting - becoming more a part of him, less a separate entity. Merging memories until Xander wasn't sure what was 'him' and what was the soldier, anymore. The hyena stayed stubbornly separate, much like Spike's demon.

_*Slayer's got a Bringer. Guess we'd better head home.*_

_*Yeah - can't learn much more here, anyway. Oz? Heading home.*_

_*Home, pack,*_ faintly from Oz, who was across town. One last look at the winery and they were trotting towards the mansion, rhythmic huff of Xander's breath, the link just a warm hum in the back of his mind.

The mansion was blazing with lights as they came down the stairs and crossed the small courtyard, seeing through the double doors the Potentials milling around the living room. The Bringer was roped to a chair in the center of the room, hunched and small-looking in its black clothes, its disfigured face downcast. Giles looked up from a sheaf of paper as they walked in.

"Ah - there you are. We're ready to start." Giles gathered up a book and looked around, clearing his throat in his best Old Librarian manner. "Everyone? Everyone sit down and - and be quiet, please." The Potentials slowly sorted themselves into ranks on the floor and Spike and Xander joined Oz, Derio and Tara on the steps. Dawn was sitting beside Johnathan on the couch, almost but not quite holding hands. Anya and Drake were cuddling on the other couch and Buffy and Faith were flanking the Bringer. Ethan dropped a match into a bowl, sending the contents up in a quiet _whoosh_ of greenish flame. Giles read aloud, a short incantation in what sounded like Turkish, although Spike couldn't be sure.

_*What's that, then? Not the truth spell.*_

_*Something else,*_ Oz replied. _*The Bringer's mute - no tongue. That's supposed to make it able to talk.*_

"Tell us - what are you doing here?" Giles said, and the Bringer swayed, blind face turning from side to side in slow negation.

"We follow our father - we serve that which came before all others," someone said, and Dawn squeaked and jumped, leaning away from Johnathan. He was staring blankly at the Bringer.

"Johnathan?"

"It's all right, Dawn - it's the spell," Giles said softly, and Dawn nodded, wide-eyed.

"But what do you _do?_ What is your specific task?" Giles asked, and the Bringer shuddered briefly, as if fighting the truth spell.

"We are ants - beneath the surface - we build an arsenal, and we protect that which must be protected. We are everywhere - we are legion…."

"An arsenal, beneath the surface...." Giles pondered, rubbing his forehead, and they all waited, little hissing ripples of whispered talk flowing out from the Potentials. Buffy put her hand on the Bringer's throat and squeezed, just a little. The Bringer thrashed, straining against the ropes.

"What does Caleb have of mine - is it another girl? What?"

Johnathan twitched, his fingers clawing at his knees. "Hurting us, hurting us!"

"Buffy - please -" Giles motioned with his hand and Buffy reluctantly let go.

"The father has that which must be protected. We build and we tunnel and we kill, kill, kill the girls - end the Slayers, end the line, end the light!" The Bringer made a sort of strangled, rasping noise - _laughter_ \- and Faith backhanded it. Johnathan jerked, then sagged a little.

"Maybe it _can't_ say -" Kennedy said, and Giles interrupted.

"The truth spell should overcome that. Perhaps - perhaps they don't know what they're protecting." He walked up close to the Bringer and leaned in - put a hard hand on its shoulder, squeezing. "Describe what you protect." The Bringer writhed, mouth opening and closing, a rasping sort of gasp coming out of its mouth. It wrenched at the rope that bound it to the chair. " _Tell me_ ," Giles barked, _*darkman*_ rippling out over them, and the Bringer shrieked, a strangled, tea-kettle sort of noise.

"Light! The light, the light - all power, all souls, for all time - they made it, we hide it - hide it!" Johnathan's voice was shockingly loud and panicked. The Bringer shook its head violently, jerking in the ropes, and Johnathan was shuddering, curling down in on himself.

"Giles, is it hurting him? Johnathan?" Dawn hovered, her hand on Johnathan's shoulder, and Ethan leaned over the back of the couch, stroking a light hand down the boy's back.

"He's all right, Dawn. He's only talking for him."

Johnathan sat up abruptly, his lips curled back in a snarl. "We are _everywhere_ and we take you down - chew your bones - hollow you out! We will cut your throats and suck your marrow and drink from your skulls! The Slayer-line is _finished_ and the father will bless us - that which came before will bless us -!" There was a choked gurgle and a _snap_ and Faith stepped back from the Bringer. Its head lolled, unnatural angle, and Johnathan took in a sharp, gasping breath, his hands flying to his neck.

"My - my - God, that was - that - my God -" He looked dazedly around at them and Dawn rubbed his shoulder, consoling him. The Potentials were whispering louder now, darting frightened looks at the dead Bringer - at Johnathan - and Spike could smell fear and despair and anger all moiling up from the crowd on the floor.

_*Nice show by little Miss Penitentiary but it's not gonna be pretty in here, in a minute. Wanna break in with our news, divert them?*_

_*Good idea. Fuck - what in hell could they have? What did it mean - 'they made it, we hide it'?*_

Spike shook his head slowly, tapping a cigarette out of his pack and lighting it. "Dunno, pet. We'll see what Glinda and the Watcher make of all that mess."

Behind him on the steps Tara stirred and he and Xander both glanced back at her. "I don't think I make - anything of it. At least, not yet." Uncertainty came from her, echoed ever so faintly in the link with a _*question question question*_ feeling, and Oz bumped her shoulder a little, smiling.

"You'll figure it out, Tara - you guys are smart." Tara ducked her head but smiled back, and Spike turned to watch Faith and Buffy drag the Bringer - chair and all - out of the room to the back garden and the cistern.

_*'Nother fire tonight, I guess,*_ he thought, and Xander sighed and stood up.

_*I could do without the odor of charred flesh again, you know? Maybe we can just bury it.*_ Xander went to the bottom of the stairs and waited until Buffy and Faith came back in, wiping their hands on their thighs, wearing matching looks of disgust. "Hey guys - when we were out, we followed some Bringers - they went to this old winery out east of town. There were a lot of them there - more than me and Spike wanted to take on." All eyes were on Xander now, and Spike felt currents shifting again, curiosity and a lessening of fear in the air.

"Did you see this - Caleb?" Giles asked, and Xander shook his head.

"No - we just looked it over from the outside. They were coming and going - really busy. We figure we can go look again in the daytime - see what the building is like. I'd bet anything that's where he's camped out."

"We should go check it out _now_ ," Buffy said suddenly, a look of determination crossing her face. "Strike while the - the iron is all - irony! Or whatever." Spike snorted laughter and Buffy shot him a sour look. "Don't start, Spike. You know what I mean. The advantage of surprise."

"Not much surprise, if you ask me, since he's all but sent an engraved invitation. Now's not the time, Slayer." Spike leaned back, dragging on his smoke and Buffy's expression darkened.

"Exactly! He's - he's teasing us! Dangling himself out there - he probably _expects_ us to be scared and unorganized! So if we go in now - hit him hard - he won't know what happened!"

"I think -" Giles stood slowly from where he'd been sitting on the couch, glasses in his hand and thumb rubbing over and over his forehead. "I think Spike is right, Buffy. It's - too soon. We should know more about the winery - about what it is he's hiding. Running in unprepared will only put us at a disadvantage. And I don't think -" Giles stopped and looked around the room at the Potentials - _*just little girls, really,*_ Spike thought - seeing that _look_ on the Watcher's face; that look of weariness and the desire for no more death - no more pain.

"I don't think we should risk - anyone."

"I'm not saying we just tear over there - I'm saying we get a plan, get our weapons - but _go_ , tonight!" Buffy looked hurt that Giles hadn't backed her.

_*She's always looking for the easy way. Not her neck that's gonna get cracked if she sends all these children in there.*_

_*Didn't know you cared,*_ Derio said, sly sideways glance at Spike and Spike huffed out smoke.

_* **Don't** care, but the more of them between me and mine the better. I want to **end** this - I don't want half our - army, or whatever you wanna call it, on their bloody backs because she can't keep her stake in her pants! We're doin' this right -gonna burn 'em to the ground and sow with salt.*_ Spike felt the demon surging up and he let it go - let it come out, snarling a little. _* Family - pack - that's the first and **only** thing I care about.*_

_*Love you...pack pack pack,*_ back from Derio, a contrite tone in the link and Spike turned and reached up the scant inches between them - took Derio's ankle in his hand and rubbed the bone with his thumb, looking at the boy.

"Love you too, _hermano_. Anything for you - all of you. Don't doubt me."

"I don't," Derio whispered. Oz leaned into Derio from the other side and Spike felt Xander climbing back up the few stairs he'd gone down, settling back down and touching - completing the circuit. Tara - above them on the stairs - suddenly reached out and put a hand lightly on Oz's shoulder, and Derio's, and the circuit _jumped_. They all shivered, lost in the feeling for a long moment until a sharp exclamation from Buffy made them all turn and look.

"Are you guys even _listening_? This is important!"

"We know it is, Buffy," Xander said, and _*tired, tired, tired*_ from him, heartsick and so weary of the fight that Spike wanted to snatch him up and take him _out_ of there - go far away and never come back. _*Won't have a world to be in, if we can't stop this,*_ Xander thought softly, and Spike shook the demon away and lit another cigarette, knowing Xander was right but not caring - just raging at the hurt he could feel from his love.

"Giles is right, and Spike is too, Buff - we really can't go in there tonight. You didn't see - how many there were. We need to do a recon in the daytime - see what kind of defenses they can mount, if the building is solid - lots of things. Can't just -"

"Don't tell me _can't_ , Xander. I'm so sick of - _standing_ here! Sick of just reacting. We need to _act!_ "

"You're right, we do! But not like this. Not without knowing more." Xander crossed his arms over his chest and stood there - solid as the wood he shaped. Buffy looked as if she were on the verge of tears, maybe, but suddenly she just slumped - turned around and ran her hands through her hair. The Potentials were all frozen in place, staring wide-eyed, looking like they were scared to move. Dawn and Johnathan and Faith had gone into the kitchen with Ethan - he could hear tea and maybe hot chocolate being prepared - and Anya and Drake were just holding each other, close as they could get. Giles had slumped back down on the couch and now he looked up at Buffy again.

"We _do_ need to act - and we will. But not - in haste. Not without more knowledge."

"I'm so tired of being on the defensive," Buffy said softly, her back still turned. "I'm so sick of - running scared. Please find something, Giles. Find something and tell me because I don't -" Buffy stopped and shook her head and walked slowly out of the room, out into the courtyard, aimless and hopeless. Giles looked as if he might get up and follow her, but they all clearly heard the tone of her cellphone, and then her voice, saying "Robin? I'm sorry I woke you -"

"I think - I'll have some tea, and go to bed. Girls - time to go up, now. We'll work out a patrol for tomorrow, a reconnaissance of the winery. All right? Good night," he added, not waiting for questions. The Potentials gathered themselves up slowly, talking, looking alternately spooked or angry or determined. Anya and Drake got up as well, talking softly, sketching a wave to them up on the stairs and going kitchen-ward to say their good nights. Spike scooted over close to Xander to clear a path as the girls filed by, saying muted _good nights_ to Tara and Oz and Derio - avoiding the vampire altogether and Xander by proxy. Only Kennedy stopped and stared at him for a moment - flicked her glance over Xander and shook her head.

"Fuck off to bed now," Spike growled, and she flinched and headed up, two steps at a time. Beside him, Xander yawned, stretching a little and then leaning heavily against Spike, burrowing his head a little into Spike's neck.

"Let's go to bed, huh?" Xander whispered. "Let's go to bed and worry about all this tomorrow. Just wanna...." Spike hissed in pleasure as Xander's fingers burrowed under his shirt and scratched lightly over his belly.

"You're the smart one, pet. Bed it is."

 

The daylight patrol hadn't told them too much more than they already knew. The building was old but not decrepit - it wasn't falling down or missing parts of the walls, and Xander had the feeling that Caleb could barricade himself inside for as long as he liked. And he _was_ in there, this not-man of God. They'd seen him once or twice, inspecting some project the Bringers were working on - strolling slowly along an avenue of overgrown grapevine, spurning the half-rotted fruit that littered the weedy aisle. And after waiting for two days, Buffy didn't want to wait any more.

"We'll never know any more than we already do, Giles," she'd argued, and Giles had finally given in. At sunset, then, they were going to go in. Faith was drilling a dozen or more girls in the courtyard, and Johnathan and Dawn were sharpening swords and axes. Tara had decided to do a spell - a sort of 'locator' spell. She had a hair from each girl, wrapped in a twist of paper. She was making an oil to put on the paper and the girls, so that if they went in, and someone got hurt, or lost, they could be found. The paper would glow until its owner touched it, and it could be used as a divining rod or a calling charm, Tara said, if someone was trapped and unable to get free. She'd gone to the now-closed Magic Box to get a last few essential herbs to add to the oil that was steeping on the stove downstairs. She'd taken a guard of five Potentials and Ethan with her. Buffy was in consultation with Giles in the library, studying the sketches of the winery Xander had made and plotting what she would do.

Xander turned over in the bed, stroking his hand down Spike's back, watching and not watching Oz and Derio curled together across the room, talking softly between slow kisses. The link was soothingly thick with _*love happy mine yours*_ , and Spike arched into his touch and tilted his head a little, so Xander could kiss him. Which he did, quite happily.

Until there was a squeal of tires outside, and a voice shouting - shouting about _Tara, Bringers, took her!_ and Xander hadn't ever gotten a pair of jeans on that fast. The four of them tore out of the room and down the stairs, to see Tara's guard - disheveled and bloody - standing in a growing circle of shouting, hysterical people.

"Shut it!" Spike bellowed, and the Potentials fell back, leaving the five standing, huddled. Dawn was staggering in with their big First Aid kit, and Buffy and Giles also appeared at the run.

"What happened? Where's Tara and Ethan?" Xander demanded, and Amanda stepped forward, blood smeared under her nose and a set of bad scrapes all down her arm, showing under the torn sleeve of her shirt.

'"It's - they - it was the Bringers! They were there - at the shop. They - did some sort of - of spell. We couldn't _see_! They grabbed - Tara and Mr. Rayne." There was a muffled exclamation from Giles, and Xander glanced at him, the ripple of _*darkman demonkiller*_ crackling over him like static electricity.

"Where were they taking them?" Oz asked, his voice urgent, and Amanda swallowed and flinched a little as Dawn tried to get at her arm. Johnathan was holding a pad of gauze to Rona's bleeding forehead.

"We - we chased them. When the spell wore off. We - killed wa-one. They looked like they were going to that school? The high school?"

" _Fuck_ ," furious and vehement from Spike and Xander felt a chill go over him. The Potentials were milling, whispering, and someone ran upstairs.

"What the hell -" _*Why the school? Why not the winery?*_ Xander thought, and then horrible suspicion blossomed, confirmed by Giles a moment later.

"Johnathan -" Giles snapped, and the boy jerked around to face the Watcher. "Why was Andrew trying to kill you at the Hellmouth - what was he trying to do?"

Johnathan paled - swallowed - then handed the gauze off to a Potential and stepped closer to Giles. "He - he said something about opening the gate. About - calling the old ones? The - Tur... Tur..han...something...."

"Turok-Han?" Spike asked, and Giles turned to face him.

"Those are a myth - aren't they?"

Spike shrugged, doing that thing with his hands that meant he was looking for his cigarettes. "Angelus mentioned them once - something the Master used to rave about. They're - different."

"They're your race's...precursors, actually, if memory serves. The Neanderthal of vampires. Strong, fast - animalistic. I wonder if _that_ is the army the First is preparing for...." Giles' expression began to go blank as he turned inward, searching his memory, and Xander clapped his hands sharply together.

"Focus, people! We need to go and get them back! We need -"

"Clothes - here -" Vi and the Australian Potential - Donna - were shoving boots, shirts, and Spike's duster at the four of them and Xander couldn't help but grin.

"Thanks, girls." They pulled on their clothes while Buffy grabbed weapons, talking rapidly to Faith.

"This might be a trick - the First might be sending more Bringers here, anything. Just - stay alert. We're counting on you to protect the house."

Faith nodded, hefting an axe. "Yeah. Don't worry, B, I got your back. We'll be fine."

"Giles - you better - you better stay here. The wards -" The wards were a permanent fixture now, but they would need to be bolstered if the Bringers or anything else started flinging themselves against them.

Giles looked agonized but he nodded sharply. "Yes, I... Just find him, please," he said softly, and Buffy touched his shoulder, nodding.

"Everybody in the van - bloody bastards _would_ pick the middle of the bloody day -" Spike yanked his duster on and Oz took off at a run, heading for the back door and the keys that hung there. The rest of them followed, silent and grim.

_*She'll be okay, she'll be okay....*_ Xander thought, and squeezed Spike's hand hard when it slipped into his.

 

_*This fuckin' basement is starting to piss me off. Maybe you need to blow it up again,*_ Spike thought, and Xander snorted in agreement.

_*I think you're right. Maybe that'd fix the First.*_ The school at just after noon was eerily deserted, with trash and graffiti marring the halls. _*God - Sunnydale really is shutting down....*_ It gave Xander the creeps. As they ran, they could feel the energy of the Hellmouth shuddering and pulsing like a live thing, and the dreadful certainty that they were _*too late, oh fuck, too late*_ crashed through them all. As they leaped down the steps, Buffy in the lead, blood-scent slammed into them, making Derio and Oz shift halfway to the wolf, making the demon rise, snarling, in Spike. The hyena rose as well because it was _Tara's_ blood thick on the air - Tara's pain and terror and Buffy almost tripped in startlement at the chorus of howls that were torn out of them.

_*No, no, no! God damnit, God **damnit** we are not too late - Tara, fuck -hold on!*_ They burst into the room that held the Hellmouth and for a moment Xander was too confused to really sort the images that were assaulting him; images that jumped and wavered in the flickering light of several torches. Then it all became clear and he was launching himself across the room at a knot of Bringers and a scaffold of wood and iron and rope - a great wheel, where Tara hung naked and bleeding.

The Bringers crumpled under them, falling like flies, and Oz was climbing the wheel, claws scrabbling and scoring the wood, tearing at the rope with his teeth.

"Guys! Help me!" It was Buffy, in the shadows at the far side of the room and suddenly she flew backwards, crashing into a wall and crumpling down. Something pounced after her - a wizened, grey-skinned creature - a hideous caricature of a vampire, and Xander felt his blood run cold. The creature had fresh blood on its mouth.

_*Jesus. Is that it?*_

_*Turok-han. Fucker's ugly. Let's put it out of its misery.*_ Spike launched himself, growling, and Derio hit the creature from the other side at the same moment, full wolf now. Oz was cradling Tara, severing the last of the rope and lowering her gently, gently to the ground.

_*Oz? She okay?*_

_*Passed out - fuck, they cut her - she's all right, I've got her!*_ Xander nodded and whirled back around, watching Derio latch onto the Turok-han's stringy calf and shake his head viciously, a ham-stringing maneuver that seemed to be working. Spike was hacking with the small axe he'd brought; blows that were driving the other vampire back but weren't doing the damage Xander expected. He readied his own weapon - a long, wide-bladed knife - and waded in. Buffy joined them a minute later, her eyes snapping with anger, the torn sleeve of her coat flapping down around her elbow.

"This bastard's gonna _pay_ for that - this is the only nice coat I have left!" Buffy swung her own axe, crashing it into the Turok-han's head, and it reeled and growled, clawing Derio's flank open, sending Spike flying with a hard kick and snapping Xander's knife off at the hilt.

_*Fuck! Too strong - what are we gonna do?*_

_*Take the fucker's head off!*_ Spike staggered upright and darted over to the wheel - snatched up a length of rope. He made a loop and ran back to the fight. _*Derio - distract it for a sec, grab its leg again!*_ Spike directed. Derio leaped and fastened his mouth on the torn flesh below the other vampire's knee and the Turok-han howled, sinking its clawed fingers into Derio's ribs. The howl of pain that went up made them all cringe, and then Spike was looping the rope around the creature's throat, dodging a kick.

"Slayer! Grab on!" he shouted, tossing the rope-end to Buffy. She caught it, winding it around her fist, and Xander grabbed up Spike's axe and chopped hard, sinking the blade into the Turok-han's chest. It howled, wrenching at the axe, and then -"Pull!" from Spike and he and Buffy leaned backwards, pulling with all their might. The rope tightened - sank into the stringy, grey neck - and the Turok-han scrabbled at it, tearing its own flesh. The rope tightened further and then disappeared and suddenly there was nothing - there was a collapsing cloud of dark ash and the rope snapped out straight between Spike and Buffy.

" _Fuck!_ " Xander leaned on the axe for a moment, panting, then jerked around at a moan coming from the shadows. "Ethan?" he hurried over, peering into the darkness and almost stumbling over the mage who was lying in the dirt, arms and ankles tied. "Jesus, you okay?"

"For almost - almost being an appetizer, I'm - all right," Ethan said weakly. Xander hauled him upright, wincing at the bloody wound on his neck where the Turok-han had apparently started to feed. He worked quickly, undoing the ropes and getting Ethan to his feet, and they both made their way back to the Hellmouth seal, and the wheel. Derio was whimpering, licking tentatively at jagged wounds down his ribs and back. Buffy was standing helplessly, looking as if she wanted to help him but wasn't sure how. Spike was on his knees next to Oz, gingerly wrapping his duster around Tara's limp form.

_*Tara, God, is she all right? What did they -*_

"She's - been cut. They carved - _marks_ \- into her." Oz snarled, his eyes flashing to black and back, and Xander saw the marks etched into her chest and stomach - runes that were still bleeding sluggishly. 

" _God_. Oh my God -" Buffy was pale, staring at Tara, and then Spike fastened up the front of the coat and gently, gently lifted her.

"Let's get her the fuck out of here. You able to walk, mage?" Ethan passed a shaky hand over his face and nodded, jaw's clamped tight. They went out and up, settling Tara gently into the van that Oz had parked right against the doors, so Spike wouldn't have to run through any sunlight. The ride home was silent, and Xander cradled Tara's head on his knee, stroking her tangled hair back out of her face, his fingers trembling. Spike was close beside him, holding Tara's hand and leaning into Xander's shoulder. The smell of blood was thick in the air - blood from all of them - and the link was a tangle of emotions; fear, pain, despair - fury and guilt. It built around them, spiraling upwards until Oz broke it, humming the wolf-chant out loud and forcing it into the link, overriding everything else. Ethan, in the passenger seat, closed his eyes, humming scratchily along. Buffy sat on the van floor, Derio's head in her lap, carefully stroking the bloodied muzzle and ruff of fur around his shoulders.

"That's nice, Oz, that's...really nice," she said softly, closing her eyes, and Xander noticed the huge bruise and scrape that was down her jaw and neck for the first time.

"You okay, Buffy?" he asked, and she opened her eyes for a moment and looked at him.

"I'm...fine. That - Turok-whatever, it was really strong. If the First has an army of _those_...."

"Have to get to the Hellmouth to get 'em out, though," Spike murmured, eyes closed. "What we need is some C-4 and Sergeant Rock, here; bring the bloody house down once and for all."

"Oh - I like that. Fire pretty...." Buffy grinned crookedly at Xander and gingerly touched her jaw, then settled back with a sigh, closing her eyes again. From his seat Ethan made a small sound, weak chuckle, and Oz reached over blindly and patted his thigh. They were all quiet after that, letting the soft words of the chant wash over them and through them, lulling them until they could be safe at home.


	24. Losing

A wave of Potentials spilled from the side door of the mansion as they pulled up, and Oz eased into the converted carriage house, not even getting the engine turned off before the doors were being opened. Amanda and Rona were first in line, tear-streaked and anxious, with the other three of the guard right behind them.

"Is she okay? Please, is she - oh _God_!" Rona reeled back, covering her mouth with her hand as Spike gently lifted Tara and the duster opened a little, showing a bloodied shoulder. Tara's face was pale as paper, streaked with blood and dirt. Ethan crawled weakly out of the van and stumbled straight into Giles' arms, his skin colored a sickly greenish-grey.

"Ethan! What - how is Tara? What happened?" Giles asked anxiously, slinging his arm around Ethan and all but lifting the slighter man into his arms.

"Ethan got attacked - one of those Turok-Han bit him. He needs some juice or something, Giles. Tara's...." Xander didn't know what to say about Tara, and he followed Spike towards the connecting door that led to the house proper, wishing he could _help_.

"S-spike, wait!" Ethan was holding out his hand and Spike turned toward him, snarling.

"She needs _help_ , mage -!"

"I know! I know." Ethan urged Giles forward until they were closer to Spike and Tara. "She's - it's the earth that helps her. She needs to be in the garden. She needs to touch the earth."

_*Fucking hell! Damnit, Xander - you think?*_

_*He's probably right, he and Giles know more about that -*_ "Giles, is that -?" Xander turned anxiously to Giles, putting out a hand to touch Ethan's shoulder, apology for doubting him.

"Yes, he's right Xander. If she's hurt, there is a spell - healing from the Earth. That's - where her power originates."

_*Take her - take her, love, hurry,*_ Spike thought, and Xander carefully accepted the limp form of the _*lightwitch mother pack pack pack*_ , wincing when he saw the deep cuts in the shadowy area below the duster's lapel. Derio limped up to them, whining softly, and Oz knelt down next to him, hugging him around the neck and stroking his fur.

_*We'll be there, take her. Have to clean these....*_ Xander knew what Oz meant - he had to change, and help Derio clean the gashes left by the Turok-han. Just like their mundane counterparts, the wolves would lick the injuries clean, and their magic would speed the healing faster than any antiseptic.

_*Derio...God -*_

_*I'm all right. Go on, we'll be right there.*_ Xander nodded and strode away, going through the house rather than around, heading for the garden. Spike crouched down next to Derio as well, anger and frustration in the link because he couldn't follow Xander out into the sunlight.

_*Pack...oh Glinda...be well, love….*_ Xander went as fast as he could, the Potentials milling around him like moonlets around a planet, Amanda beside him and Rona crying softly right behind. Buffy quietly asked Faith to get the First Aid kit and sent Dawn scrambling for a sheet and blanket. Johnathan was sent off next for juice and a muffin for Ethan and they all arrived in the garden about the same time. Buffy and Dawn spread the doubled sheet on the ground and Buffy helped Xander to ease Tara down, straightening her limbs and arranging her arms, her face tight with worry.

"Is she...God, she looks -" Rona looked utterly spooked and Xander frowned up at her.

"She's going to be _fine_. She lost a lot of blood. She's just unconscious. Ethan - what do I do?"

Ethan had collapsed onto the edge of a concrete planter, gulping orange juice. He wiped the back of his hand over his mouth and looked up at Giles, nodding once. "You need to get that coat off of her, and let her hands touch the ground." Xander nodded and Buffy knelt down, helping him roll Tara from side to side, stripping off Spike's duster. Dawn was ready with the blanket but they all stared in shock for a moment at the symbols carved so cruelly deep into the palely tawny skin of Tara's chest, ribs and belly.

_*Oh God, oh **fuck** , those bastards, gonna **pay** for this -*_ Xander let the others _see_ , showing them the wounds, and there was a roar of fury from inside the house as the extent of Tara's hurts came clear to Spike. Xander looked up and saw him in the doorway, demon-faced and teeth bared, _* **kill** them, kill all of them, no mercy, none left, kill them not pack not pack*_ sluicing like lava through the link. Dawn tucked the blanket up around Tara and then Xander and Buffy carefully got Tara's hands out from under it and laid them palm down on the leaf-littered floor of the garden, bunching the sheet out of the way.

"What - what next? What do we do?" Xander asked, and he could hear Rona and another one or two potentials crying - could hear whispering. "Shut up! She's going to be fine! Giles - Ethan, what next?" Ethan held his hand out and let Giles haul him to his feet. They both came over and knelt on either side of Tara, looking grave.

"She must do it herself, I'm afraid," Giles said softly. "We must - wake her up a little." They all looked down at her unconscious, too-pale features, and Xander felt a wave of helplessness go through him.

_*Be all right, she'll be all right, she's strong,*_ from Oz, and he looked up to see both wolves on either side of Spike, leaning into his legs, Spike's hands knotted in their fur. Just inside the margin of safety, in the shadowy edge of the doorway.

"Oh! Here -" Dawn dove for something in the kit and handed it to Giles - a small vial of something that Giles immediately opened and waved under Tara's nose.

_*Smelling salts,*_ Spike supplied as Xander caught a whiff and recoiled. Buffy was wrinkling her nose as well at the acrid reek. Tara stirred, turning her head a little, and she coughed weakly. Giles waved the vial again and her eyes snapped open, pain and fear in wide green eyes. She coughed again, harder, and moaned in pain. Giles capped the vial and Xander carefully brushed a strand of hair back from Tara's cheek - smoothed that same cheek with his palm.

"Tara? Tara, you're safe - it's Xander and - and Buffy, we've got you, Tara."

She blinked - licked her lips, looking dazedly at the faces that ringed her. "E-ethan?" she rasped, and the mage shifted into her view.

"I'm here, child. We're all here." Tara managed a tiny sort of smile - grimaced as she tried to move.

"Don't - Tara, you're really hurt -"

"The girls -"

"We're fine, Tara - we.... God, we're so sorry!" Amanda wiped her eyes, trying not to cry, and Tara slumped back, nodding.

"Oh-oh-okay, glad...." Her voice faded to a mumble and her eyes were fluttering, trying to close.

"Tara - you must not sleep. You need to heal yourself." Giles leaned over Tara, gently patting her cheek. "Can you remember the invocation? Call to Brigit, Tara…."

Tara blinked again and again - finally nodded faintly. "I can - do it, I can...." Her fingers pushed weakly at the ground, burying the tips a little into the thick loam.

"Everyone get back - back up," Xander said. The Potentials stepped away, forming a wide ring, and Buffy stood up and grabbed Dawn's hand, backing away. Faith picked up the First Aid kit and moved away as well. Giles helped Ethan up and away but Xander couldn't move - didn't _want_ to move -and he reached out and put his hand lightly on Tara's.

"Come on, Tara - come on, you can do this." Tara smiled wanly up at him - closed her eyes, frowning. Then she began to whisper, soft words in a language Xander wasn't familiar with.

_*That's Irish. Brigit's Irish. She's calling her....*_ A touch of awe in Spike's mental voice, and Xander closed his own eyes, listening to the rhythm of the words; the soft, musical sound of the language. He felt heat and fur and _*Derio*_ and the wolf settled with a pained sigh beside him. The call went on, lulling and soft, and Xander slipped into a blank place, where Tara's voice was like the wind or the sea, and the sunlight was a cocoon of warmth around him - the earth under his knees the only point of solidity. A soft gasp from the crowd around them and he opened his eyes. A delicate light - palely silver-green, dancing like the sun reflecting off water - surrounded Tara. It seemed to come from the earth and the air and from Tara herself, and it rippled and shivered with every breath - every movement of Tara's lips. The light was over Derio as well, tipping each hair with a speck of witch-fire and making his eyes spark gold-green. Xander watched as the tail-end of a cut over Tara's shoulder slowly knit itself together, not noticing he was crying until he felt Derio's muzzle nudging his hand.

_*All right, it's all right….*_  
 _*She's doing it, love...God, look at her -*_ Oz made a low, whining sound, happiness and excitement, and the moment went on and on, until finally Tara's voice died away, and her eyes fluttered open again. The green light seemed to glow that much brighter for a moment, and then it was sucked back and down, flowing into the earth and fading away and Tara pushed herself slowly upright, clutching the blanket. Xander wiped his face, impatient with tears, but feeling - lighter, somehow.

"Tara! That was - that was amazing, that was...." Xander didn't know what to say - reached out hesitantly and Tara folded gratefully into him, shaking. _*She's fine, she's perfect, she -*_

_*It's all right love...bring her in, please bring her in -*_ Spike was desperate to touch her - confirm that she was there, and safe, and _healed_ , and Xander nodded into Tara's shoulder, sniffing.

"She'll be - very tired," Giles said gently, and Xander looked up to see everyone crowding close, smiling through tears or, like Dawn, bouncing with ill-suppressed glee.

"Man, I need some powers like that," Faith said, grinning, and Xander had to grin back.

"Want to go inside, Tara?" Xander asked, and Tara leaned back a little and nodded. There was still blood and dirt on her skin and she looked down at herself with a grimace.

"Yeah, I would. I r-really need a shower."

"A _bath_ \- you'll fall and knock yourself silly," Ethan said, and Tara sighed - nodded reluctantly.

"I do feel k-kinda - weak."

"My dear girl - you called Brigit to you, and called her power of healing out of the Earth itself. It's a wonder you're not comatose." Giles' voice was full of pride and delight and Xander got his arms under Tara and carefully lifted, Derio bracing him on one side and Faith on the other. Dawn got the blanket tucked up right, making sure Tara was covered and she rested her head on Xander's shoulder, her arms around his neck. Xander went carefully inside, the Potentials parting like the red sea - went straight to Spike and Oz. Derio pushed past, human again, the dirt-streaked sheet around him, healed by the light, also.

He held the sheet just so and Oz changed as well, winding the rest of the sheet hastily around his hips as Xander brought Tara up to them. Spike just stood there, staring at her, then he reached out and slowly stroked her hair, his face shuttered but the link crowded with joy and awe and the undercurrent of rage that they all shared. Xander was aware, sort of, of Buffy sending the Potentials away, back to drilling or chores or something - of asking Faith to start a bath in the downstairs tub and shooing Johnathan to the kitchen with Giles and Ethan, telling him Ethan wasn't the only one who needed food. Then she faded back, and Dawn slipped up close, and they were all _there_ , just there, _*sister brother family*_ faintly from Dawn, _*love family*_ from Tara even fainter - more emotion than clear thought, more a warm breath through their souls than anything else.

_*Safe, pack is safe, family is safe,*_ the hyena crowed, wanting to roar joy and challenge to the rafters, but Xander shushed it.

"Thank you f-for coming for m-me..." Tara whispered, pushing a little into Spike's hand, looking at them all with eyes glittering and wet.

"Always come for you, Glinda. Never doubt it," Spike murmured, and she nodded, smiling at them. 

"C'mon, you need to get cleaned up," Xander finally said, when he saw Faith wandering back from the bath and Buffy starting to look a little impatient.

"Wait. B-buffy? Tell Giles - I saw d-down past the seal. I saw...." Tara stopped and shut her eyes for a moment. "I saw - thousands of those - those Turok vampires. Hundreds of th-thousands. Tell him, okay?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I'll tell him. Right after you get cleaned up and into bed." Buffy's smile was strained but Tara nodded gratefully, laying her head down and sighing, worn out. Xander carried her to the bathroom and left her in Buffy and Dawn's gentle hands, and joined his pack on the steps.

_*We can't fight that many. Not if they're all strong like that….*_

_*Won't have to. We'll figure a way, love. We **will** *_

_*Maybe if we figure out what this Caleb has....*_ Oz thought, speculating, and Derio leaned into him and sighed, looking as worn-out as Tara. _*You should sleep, me amor,*_ Oz chided gently, and Derio closed his eyes.

_*So hungry. Eat then sleep. Are we still going tonight? The winery?*_ They all thought about that for a minute, and they all knew what they wanted. Revenge.

_*We'll go, with or without the Slayer. Can burn the bloody thing to the ground if nothing else,*_ Spike concluded, and they all agreed. _Something_ would be done, one way or the other.

 

"Okay, so - _what's_ the signal?" Oz asked, and Buffy looked impatient.

"Lots of yelling. Everybody ready?" There was shuffling and a murmuring and Buffy took it for assent - squared her shoulders and nodded. "Okay. _Spike_. We're trying to find something that he's got. Something hidden, maybe. So we _may_ need to talk to him. Is this translating into English for you?"

"Fold, spindle and mutilate, no killing, check," Spike muttered, sucking hard on the last inch of his cigarette, demon-face and all but vibrating with suppressed rage. Xander felt the same - felt it from Oz and Derio, as well. A seething cloud of red-tinged fury, boiling up like ants from a nest. Biting, pinching, _urging_ them all on. Relentless. Spike had left his duster - _his duster_ \- at the mansion. Left it folded in Tara's lap with a _'don't let this get lost, eh Glinda?'_ and a kiss on the cheek. In the link had been scenes - some memories, some just fantasy - all so gory that it made sense. Spike didn't want his precious coat covered in...stuff. _*Too much work to clean off **that** much blood,*_ he'd thought, mind straying to something that had happened in Potsdam in 1889. It had only stoked their _own_ fire, and Xander had wondered, distantly, when Spike's history had ceased to be an issue for him in any way. Xander watched as Buffy and about half the Potentials - and Oz and Derio in wolf form - slipped away through the scrubby trees and bushes that crowded the old winery.

_*Gotta stay calm - can't go nuts. Nobody can get hurt -*_ Xander thought, edge of rationality threatening to slip away as the hyena bullied itself up and out and the world became curiously flat and almost colorless.

_*Calm, calm...not pack not pack not pack. Kill what touches mine, kill it,*_ was the less than rational reply from Derio _and_ Oz, ringing synchronicity in their mental voice. The demon had long-since lost its ability to form words and the fury and malice spiraling out from it - from _Spike_ \- made Xander's breath come hard and fast - made him clench his fists until his nails cut into his palms. They waited, the Potentials in a huddle stinking of fear and nerves; Spike standing stock-still, a nearly sub-sonic growl rattling up out of his chest. Faith stood uneasily beside him, dividing her attention between the winery and the vampire. The link from Oz and Derio showed the colorless world-view of the wolves, moving along at hip-height to the Potentials. The vegetation thinned and then they were trotting across a packed-earth courtyard, past stacks of cut, dead vines and heaps of fresher earth, the rich fungal scent thick in the air.

_*Digging...under the earth. Digging a lair or a...hiding place....*_ Wordless agreement from Oz, and then Buffy was kicking in the doors - leaping into a space lit by dim electric light. The Potentials flooded in, Oz and Derio bounded forward, down a shallow, short flight of stairs. They could smell _Bringers_ \- a sharp, acid, _rot_ sort of smell, and then black-clad figures boiled out of every space and the fight began.

"Let's go!" Xander shouted and "Fuck _yeah!_ " from Faith and they _ran_ , Spike like a fire-pale arrow shooting straight ahead, the Potentials crashing heedlessly through the brush. Xander felt the hyena's voice struggling in his throat and he tipped up his chin and let it out, ringing shriek of challenge and hate. It was answered by the wolves - by _Spike_ \- and beside him a Potential cried out and almost tripped. He yanked her upright - grinned nastily into her shocked face and flung himself forward, plunging through the doors a second or so behind Spike and into a whirling wind-mill of activity. _*Some of these girls are going to die,*_ was Xander's last real thought, and then there was just the satisfying crunch of bone and the wet tearing of flesh.

 

"Is that it? Is that all?" Buffy was panting, standing with legs braced, looking warily around. Spike felt the demon retreat a bit - looked around himself at the room they'd been fighting in. It was some sort of cellar - a storage room - with fifty or more huge, wooden vats of wine in rows against the walls. The thick, ripe smell of the wine was everywhere in the room, as was the smell of freshly turned earth and blood.

_*Family*_ , insistent, and Xander was right there.

_*Family, we're here, we're safe*_

_*Pack pack*_ from Oz and _*pack*_ from Derio. All accounted for. Bringer corpses were scattered like jack-straws over the dirt floor, and Spike grinned fiercely at the carnage.

_*Did good, did good,*_ he praised, knowing that his pack and the Slayers had accounted for most of the deaths. There were so _many_ , he wondered if that was all of them, if they'd wiped out the nest. He dragged his hand back through his hair, pushing stray locks off his forehead and grimacing at the stickiness. He knew he was spattered in blood - he could _taste_ it - and it was sharp with fear and magic. Everyone else was in a similar state, although Buffy, he noticed, had escaped the worst of it.

The air seemed to crackle with something - with some further thing yet to happen - and Spike nodded in agreement as Xander and Faith got the Potentials who were still standing busy gathering up the wounded. He counted eight that were hurt - two badly enough to be unconscious - and three dead. As he watched the bodies shimmered and disappeared, part of the spell Tara had done. The corpses were tied to the talismans Tara had made, and each talisman would bring its 'owner' straight to it if the 'spark' left it. Giles' own twist on the spell because he couldn't bear the thought of sending a telegram to someone's family, and giving them nothing to mourn over and bury.

_*Nasty surprise for them, when those show up,*_ Spike thought, and felt a moment's pang for Tara, who would be upset.

"Where is he? Is he even here?" Buffy asked, watching the last of the injured girls straggle out. Kennedy, Chao-ahn, Amanda and Rona stood at the top of the steps, waiting. Rear-guard while the hale helped the injured to the van Johnathan had waiting down the road.

"You must mean me," a voice said - smooth and amused - and something stirred in the shadows at the far end of the room. Then he stepped out into the light, _Caleb_ ; his priest's costume immaculate, the grin that split his face superior and sharp-edged. "And _you_ must be the Whore of Babylon - and Mary Magdalene, eh? Sluts, all." Caleb stood with his hands loosely at his side, studying Buffy and Faith. Spike felt the instant urge to kill from the wolves - from _Xander_ \- and he himself held back with difficulty, letting Buffy run the show.

Caleb glanced up at the four Potentials near the door, a sneering look of dismissal. "And your little followers - other dirty girls who think they can escape their fate."

"The only person with a fate here is me," Buffy said, low and measured tones, and Faith bumped her with an elbow. "Oh, and Faith, too. And you - _you're_ fated to die. Now hand over what's mine so we can get on with it."

"You tell 'em, B," Faith said, chuckling, and Caleb narrowed his eyes at them.

"You should _both_ be begging my forgiveness. Not that I'll _give_ you forgiveness. There's no absolution for the foul creatures that you are. Polluted with darkness while you pretend to the light."

" _What_ are you talking about? 'Cause tell the truth, I'm kinda bored now," Faith said, and Caleb let out a short bark of laughter. Spike could feel Oz and Derio slinking around the edges of the room, looking for anything hidden - looking for _something_ because the room seemed to be a dead end. 

_*A trap? Maybe -*_ Xander started sorting possibilities in his head, coming down the stairs to stand by Spike, who was a few feet behind the Slayers.

_*If it's a trap we've sprung it - don't think he counted on us killin' off all his little workers.*_ There was a muted _chirrup_ from Xander and he snapped open his cell. Spike could clearly hear Johnathan on the other end, but he was pretty sure no one else could.

"They're all here - we're going. Clem's going to wait. Be careful."

"Go," Xander said softly, and shut the phone - put it away. Johnathan was taking the girls back to the mansion. The hospital was as abandoned as the rest of the town, and they'd raided it for every conceivable medical supply. The Watcher, the mage and Glinda had strengthened the wards on the house to near impenetrability, especially for this night. Just in case. Knowing the rest were safely out of the way made Spike feel - looser - and he pulled a cigarette from the squashed pack in his back pocket and lit up, blowing a stream of smoke towards Caleb.

"I'm with you there, Slayer. Bored."

Caleb sauntered a step closer, grinning still. "Oh, the _vampire_. And the one who sees." He frowned at Xander and Spike stepped in front of him, growling, the demon just _there_ without thought. "Oh, don't flash your fangs at me, half-breed. I've _seen_ the true demon, and _you_ \- don't measure up." Caleb turned back to the Slayers and Spike sucked in smoke and watched him, tense. Ready to leap.

_*Thank God you're nothing like the Turok-han - can't really see me getting' down and dirty with ole' Batface.*_

_*What's his game then? All this talk...wolfling, anything?*_

_*Some digging here. There's something **under** here - but it's blocked. These vats -*_

_*We'll move 'em once we clear this mess out. Find his secret.*_

Caleb was still prattling on, and Buffy looked annoyed. "It's no surprise you consort with this kind of - rabble," he said, waving a dismissive hand at Spike and Xander. "Considering your beginnings, it's a wonder you don't _join_ them. I suppose we have those Watchers to thank for that."

"Look - is there a point to all this? 'Cause I gotta say - not really interested in the Mr. Evil psychobabble. I just want what's mine." Buffy looked _up_ as Caleb got a little closer.

"Oh, that's right. What's _yours_." Caleb laughed. "Glad you got my message, by the way. I admit to being a little heavy-handed there. Touch and go for awhile if you'd get to hear what I told her before she gasped her last. Sometimes -" Caleb stopped and gazed beatifically upwards. "Sometimes the spirit just _moves_ me, you know?"

"How 'bout havin' _this_ move you?" Faith said and leaped at him, a high, hard kick flashing towards his face. He took the blow with a rock backwards of his head and then he had Faith by one arm, twisting it up hard behind her back.

"Little girl, you should know better than to interrupt your elders. Down on your knees like the little slut you are." Caleb forced Faith to her knees, his other hand fisted in her hair and yanking her head back hard. He jerked her arm up higher and Spike heard the _crack_ as something broke and Faith went utterly white.

"One good twist and there'll be only one again. What'dya think about that, Slayer?" he purred.

"No!" It was Rona, charging clumsily down the stairs and straight at Caleb, a nail-studded baseball bat in her hands. Caleb half-lifted Faith and _threw_ her, and she crashed into a wall and slid down, limp. 

_*Oh fuck!*_ from Xander, and the wolves bolted forward, heading in. Spike did the same, watching with fury as Caleb easily avoided the wild blow Rona aimed at him. He snatched the bat from her and spun it like a majorette - swung - and the nails buried themselves in Rona's skull with a meaty thud. She fell to her knees and then her back and then Oz and Derio hit him, snarling. He threw them off, the back of his shirt torn open now, and Spike snarled at the yelps of pain when they smashed into the floor. Buffy ran forward only to meet Caleb's fist. She flew backwards into a vat, cracking it, and wine started to seep out, pungent in the close air.

Spike plowed into the quasi-priest, clawing and trying to get in one good bite to the jugular but Caleb put a fist like a hammer into his gut and then kicked, sending him reeling. Xander ran forward as well, axe swinging up and then down and Caleb darted away and flung Xander across the room, half up the stairs. Kennedy, Chao-ahn and Amanda had been frozen at the top of the flight and now they tumbled down over Xander and moved in and Caleb swatted them away, laughing. Chao-ahn hit the broken vat hard enough to snap her neck and the wine gushed out over her, washing her body to Caleb's feet even as it faded away as Rona's had.

"Come on - is this all you've got? Is this _really_ all the Chosen One has to throw at me? Strumpets and half-breeds and abominations?" He waded towards Buffy and Faith who were both struggling back to their feet.

"Buffy! There's a trap door!" Xander yelled suddenly, and Spike whirled to look - saw that there _was_ , a door set flush into the floor where the broken vat was, half-visible in the splintered wreckage.

"Oh, that was supposed to be a _secret_ ," Caleb said, and he was frowning now. "Come out, come out, wherever you are!" he yelled, and the door heaved and opened and Bringers flooded out; five, ten, _more_.

_*Fuck - too many - wolves are hurt, Faith is -*_

_*Get 'em out, love - hurry!*_ Spike thought, and he threw himself at the Bringers, claws and fangs and bone-cracking blows.

"Buffy, let's go! We gotta go!" Xander shouted. Spike was aware, through Derio and Oz and Xander himself, of Kennedy grabbing Amanda's hand and yanking her up the stairs - of Buffy pushing Faith that way as well, and Derio limping after her, pain in the link from what might a broken leg. Oz darted in and swiped at Caleb with his teeth, getting a glancing, painful kick to his ribs in return.

_*Out! Hurry!*_ More Bringers were coming up from below and Spike saw Xander wading in, axe flashing, and Buffy joining him. Caleb seemed to be thinking, standing there glaring at them.

"Slayer - get out! Xander -" Spike whirled and kicked and _killed_ , and Buffy sprinted for the stairs, Xander going more slowly behind, taking out the Bringers who surged after him. Spike grabbed another Bringer and wrenched head from neck - spun, kicking, making a clear space so he could follow Xander. And then he was on his knees, he was howling as white-hot pain lanced through his head and someone was screaming and he staggered to his feet, utterly confused, the pain like fire and acid, ten times worse than the chip ever had been.

Caleb had Xander in his grip - had one hand around his throat and one on his face and the link was _agony_ , was a nauseating, lancing throb. Spike thought he might vomit - might collapse - but instead he _roared_ and he leaped for Caleb - sank his fangs into the bit of throat visible above the priests' collar and _bit_. Caleb reeled backwards, dropping Xander, beating at Spike with his fists. Spike drank faster then he ever had, feeling the man's heartbeat stutter and lurch and then he was wrenching his fangs free in a gout of arterial blood; taste of rotting tin, belladonna, _fire_ in his mouth. Xander was on the floor, both hands clutched over his left eye, curled into a shivering knot. There was blood - so much _blood._

_*No, Xander - love, please -*_

_*Hurts hurts hurts get me out out Spike!*_ Spike staggered and locked his hand around Xander's wrist - hauled him up and then scooped him into his arms, heading for the stairs.

"Guess he won't s-see so damn much, now," Caleb rasped somewhere behind him and _Oz_ was a blur hurtling past him. There was a choking gurgle and silence. Spike half ran up and out, heading for the van, Caleb's blood making him reel. _Power_ , in that blood, more power than the Slayer in China and he could barely see - couldn't feel his feet or his arms or Xander….

_*Love, love - please - Xander - what did he do, what did he do?*_ Stutter of images - Caleb's face, his hand on Xander's throat, throttling him, his other hand covering his face, his eye. Something hard against his eye, pushing, pushing, oh fuck _no_ , no -

_*Nonono Spike, Spike - help, hurts, it hurts **Spike**!*_ Xander was writhing in his arms, moaning in a horrible, guttural tone and Spike staggered into a bush and then a tree, his sight dazzling and darkening and his head singing. Arms came around him - Oz, naked and blood-streaked and whimpering in pain, his eyes black and wild. 

"Oh God, God, Xander - we're here -" Oz' hands feverishly stroked over Xander's arm, over his ribs, but Xander was lost, sinking into unconsciousness, blood still seeping down his face and the _pain_ like a spike, like a shard of burning ice all through his head.

" _Xander!_ " Spike dropped to his knees, jolting him, making him cry out, bringing him back and Spike did the only thing he knew to do. He tore his wrist open and pushed it hard against Xander's mouth, willing his boy to drink, willing the magic and the demon's blood and the _claim_ to do something - anything - to help. "Drink, love, drink it, please, it'll help, please please _please_ -" Xander choked, coughed, and then he was drinking as fast as he could. Spike let him - let him drink until his own head cleared, until the dizzying power that had been in Caleb's blood had ebbed enough for him to see - to think straight.

They were barely twenty yards from the winery and Spike struggled to his feet again, Oz still there, Oz bracing him and holding on and from the wolf, broken ribs stabbing into his muscles.

"Wolf - go -"

" _No_ -come on, Spike!" Oz gasped, a thin, choked sound of pain rising up and escaping between his teeth. "Clem's there - hurry - too _close_." They half-ran, staggering, a steady moaning whimper from Xander at every jolt and jounce, a tea-kettle hissing from Oz and his fingers hurtfully deep in Spike's arm. Something crashed in the bushes and Buffy was there, panting, getting her arm around Spike from the other side and half carrying him, struggling over roots and clumps of grass. The van came into view finally, looming up in the thin moonlight, headlights blazing and Clem behind the wheel, one sagging-skinned arm waving frantically out the window.

The back doors were open and Buffy and Oz heaved, getting Spike up, Oz crying out. Spike sank to his knees, pulling Xander close, _*hurts hurts hurts Spike please hurts*_ as Xander gained some awareness.

"Goin' home, love, we're going, you'll be fine, you'll be fine, Xander...." _*Be fine, please, fucking hell, my boy, my own, you'll be fine we'll fix it, promise, promise.*_ The van lurched into gear and sped away, Buffy hanging half out to slam the doors and then there was only darkness, and pain.


	25. Winning

The wards sparked like a firework as they stumbled through them and Spike staggered a last few steps and was on his knees again, Xander cradled close to him and Oz folding up beside him, so much pain in the link he could barely think straight. Oz struggled to shut it down; Derio, across the room with a bandage tight around his leg was doing the same, wide-eyed and blood-spattered. But Xander -

_*Love, stay awake, stay **here** , you can't sleep now, Xander, please -*_

_* **Hurts** hurts hurts, make it stop make it stop make it stop stop stop -*_

"What do you need, what happened?" Johnathan, crouching down beside him, streaked with blood, heart pounding but doing his best.

"Something for the pain - bandages - _fuck_ , I don't - I don't know -" Spike felt lost - felt utterly helpless. He _made_ things break and bleed, he didn't _fix_ them, and he had no idea what to do. Johnathan scrambled to his feet, quick pat of his hand on Spike's shoulder.

"Be right back," he said, trotting away, and Derio was talking urgently to a tear-streaked Potential who nodded and fled upstairs. Buffy was across the room, saying something to Giles who was strapping up Faith's arm and he looked over at them, concern on his face.

_*Don't know what to do, what to do -*_ Something flickered in his memory - some momentary image and he seized on it - drew it out. _Knowledge_ crashed through him as the soldier woke up and he closed his eyes and _remembered_. Johnathan came back, spilling sealed packages and boxes of supplies from a basket. Hospital gear that they'd scrounged when they'd realized just how _much_ had been left behind.

_*C'mon, tell me what to do - show me - come **on**!*_

_*Hurts, oh fuck - hurts...hurts.... Need to clean the - wound, need - bandage, need -*_ Images, information, procedures cascaded through his mind and Spike scanned the pile of supplies - looked at Johnathan's weary, dirty face.

"I need gauze, I need - saline, and some kind of - morphine, something, I -" _*Wolf, can you hold him? Can you -*_

_*I'm here,*_ from Derio as he hobbled to them, wrapped in a towel. He got down on the floor, his injured leg stuck out to the side and took Xander's limp weight into his lap, cradling his head against his shoulder. Oz was breathing in short, painful hitches, hunched and unmoving and Spike spared him a second's agonized look and then reached for the supplies. But his _hands_ \- his hands were filthy; covered in blood, in bits, in dirt, and he wanted to howl his frustration.

"Here - just -" Johnathan had towels and he folded one on the floor - cracked open a plastic bottle of alcohol and held it out. "Wash, here -" Spike stuck his hands out and Johnathan poured and he scrubbed hard, _*hurts hurts God, sorry, Spike - hurts hurts hurts,*_ mindless drone that made tears blur Spike's vision.

_*Love, don't be sorry, not your fault, I'm here, almost done, gonna fix it, love please, you'll be all right -*_ He felt something wet on his face and he ducked away, snarling. It was Dawn, a wet towel in her hands, and she bit her lip. "Bit - it's okay - sorry, didn't know -"

"Just wanted to get the blood off, you don't want any to get on - on Xander -" Dawn scuttled away, tears on her face, but Spike couldn't spare another thought for her - could barely think at all. A steady moaning noise - endless and ragged - was coming from Xander and Spike wanted to _stop_ it, oh God, he wanted it to end. After a minute his hands were better and he took the latex gloves Johnathan offered, pulling them on.

"I need - a pot, a bowl - something -" Spike leaned over, getting a tall bottle of sterile saline and opening it - shredding open packages of gauze. The Potential was back, dumping a blanket on Oz and nodding frantically at Johnathan's hurried words, darting off to the kitchen. Spike opened the saline and wet the gauze - hovered over Xander, biting his lip.

_*Let me see, love, let me see - got to move your hands -*_

_*Hurts! Spike - please, please, please -*_

_*I know! Shhhh....*_ "Shhh, love - I'll fix it, I _will_ , but I have to - to see what's there, _please_ move your hands, love -" The guttural moan went on and on and Xander was rigid with pain; his skin sheened with sweat, his heart-beat too slow and his breathing erratic. _Shock_ was the word and Spike looked frantically around.

"I need something for pain, damnit, didn't you steal any fucking _pain_ meds?" he snapped and Johnathan scrabbled in the basket - came up with a vial and a syringe and then looked over towards a knot of people - Giles, Ethan and several Potentials.

"Mr. Rayne! I need your help _now!_ "

"Coming -" The mage pushed himself to his feet and hurried over and Johnathan held up the vial and syringe. Ethan knelt down and felt after Xander's pulse - looked at Spike.

"This could be dangerous."

"He's gotta have it, I've got to see -" Spike wanted to _shake_ the man and after a moment Ethan uncapped the syringe and drew a tiny measure of liquid into it. Johnathan swiped at Xander's arm with a piece of alcohol-soaked gauze and Ethan carefully injected the drug and then waited, his fingers on Xander's throat, his gaze turning inward as he concentrated. Spike heard Xander's heartbeat steady - heard it drop a little lower and then settle into a rhythm and Xander let out a long, long sigh.

_*Thank you, thank you, better, Spike, you there? Better, better -*_

_*I'm here, love,*_ Spike thought but Xander was silent now, unconscious, and Spike took a deep breath. With the pain and the awful, awful moaning finally gone he could _think_ , and he ordered his thoughts, _remembering_ as hard as he could - picking apart the soldier's knowledge and seeing what he had to do. The Potential - _*Kennedy, that's Kennedy*_ \- came back just then with a big pot from the kitchen and Spike took it with a single, lingering glance.

"Wolf, we have to - to hold him on his side so I can wash the blood off and see - see what's under there." Derio nodded, shifting, and pain flared in the link. He hastily shut it down but not before Ethan saw him flinch.

"Let me do this, Derio, you're hurt, let me- " Derio snarled, the wolf flashing up in his eyes but then he reluctantly nodded, easing Xander over so Ethan could take him. Xander's hands fell away from his face and Spike stared at the mess of blood that was there - blood and tissue and Xander's eye-lid, horribly not _right._

_*Fuckin' get it done, don't **think** , just -*_

_*Be all right, be all right, fuck -so much blood -*_ Oz shifted, making room for Derio and looking ill, and Spike took another hard breath.

"Hold him so I can - can get this on his face." He wetted a handful of gauze and then carefully, carefully poured more saline over Xander's face, watching Ethan snatch more gauze to cover Xander's nose, watching the blood sluice away into the pot, so _much_ blood and bits of tissue; dirt from the winery floor. He wiped and poured and wiped and poured until the pot was halfway full and then he steeled himself and carefully, carefully peeled the eyelid back. Ruin gaped up at him - welling blood and emptiness and he froze for a moment, shaking. _*No, no, **no** , not my boy, not -*_

_*Clean it out, just - see what's there -*_ Oz was holding Derio's hand so hard Spike felt it in the link and Buffy was there suddenly, crouching down and looking at Xander, her face white and set.

"Is - is it - _God_ \- is there -?"

"Don't - know, I don't, fuck, I need more of this." Spike tossed the empty saline bottle aside and Buffy snatched a full one up, cracked the seal and opened it and Spike carefully, carefully poured a thin stream of the fluid into the damaged socket.

"Johnathan, I need that light." A shifting, and then Buffy had a penlight in her hand and was shining it into Xander's face and they _all_ saw it. Saw the empty socket, and the pulped bits of flesh that were washing out with the saline and Spike _knew_ , he knew. Ethan drew in a hard breath but kept his hold gentle - tipped Xander's head a little more so the saline wouldn't wash over his face.

_*Gone, fucking gone, it's - oh fuck, there's -*_

_*Sure, be **sure** , so much blood -*_ Derio's voice in the link was frantic and shaky and Spike closed his eyes - opened them and poured and wiped and washed - gingerly inserted a twist of gauze that came out bloody but the socket was clean, now. Blood seeped slowly from the damaged tissue but there was nothing - there.

_* **No** , oh love - fuck - what do I....*_ Spike braced his elbows on his knees, his hands shaking, sorting the memories. "Is there - is there Betadine? Red, liquid, not soap -" he asked, his voice hoarse and hurting in his throat and Johnathan pawed through the supplies - came up with another bottle. He read the label swiftly and then opened it, handing it over.

Spike soaked more gauze and then carefully, carefully packed the wound, pressing lightly until the horrible, empty socket was filled in with the red-stained cloth. He stripped off the fouled gloves and carefully positioned Xander's eyelid - took a fresh gauze pad from Buffy and laid it over Xander's face. Johnathan had more bandaging and slowly, slowly, Spike wound it around Xander's head, gentle tug and twist, making it secure, not too tight. When it was done it was neat and smooth and utterly awful, and he motioned for Ethan to let Xander go. The mage carefully shifted Xander over so that he rested in Spike's arms again and Spike curled down over his boy and wept. He felt Oz leaning on him - Derio - felt their pain as the link shuddered open and they tried to comfort him - comfort each other. Xander slept on, free of the pain, and Spike simply held him. He was sure that his heart, dead as it might be, was breaking.

 

_*Moving, he's waking up, it hurts, my fault, my fault, should never have come back, don't, love, I'll do that -*_ Routine, now - the careful, careful lifting of his boy - the twice-daily changes of bandages and gauze packing, the bathing with warmed water and a washcloth. Coaxing him to eat, monitoring the link so he'd get another dose of the pain-meds _now_ because Xander was trying to tough it out, trying to wake up and _endure_ it so he could....

_*I'm useless like this, Spike, **please** , let me get up, let me go downstairs and help with **something**!*_

" _No!_ " hurt. You just stay here, let me take care of you.... It's only been three days, love, it's… **my** fault, my fault, you just stay right here, we're all taking a break….*

Which wasn't a lie. Giles and Ethan were grimly executing the task of getting the dead Potentials back home. Drake and Anya were helping - were getting family members to escort the bodies and to explain, and there was a constant flow of people in and out of the house. The wounded had been taken to Tara and she had exhausted herself with the healing spell. Enough to speed everyone along, but not enough to fix it all right away. Spike had carried Xander's limp form to her, out to the garden where she was sitting and healing Faith's arm. Instead of weeks in a cast Faith would be mended in days and Spike had laid Xander down so, so gently, and looked desperately at Tara, surrounded by the scents of jasmine and damp earth, blood and clove-scented candles and lemonade.

 

_"Oh - no... Spike?"_

_"Please, Glinda...please, can you -" Spike shudders, ignoring the tears that just will not **stop** , ignoring the aches of his own hurt body, and the blood that's stiffening - stinking - in his clothes and hair. So focused on Xander he can barely think straight and Tara puts her hands on him and he jerks away, startled. Fighting the flood of energy and well-being that surges from her hands to him, healing his magic-driven body instantly._

_" **No** , don't waste that on me, give it to Xander! He needs it more, damnit!"_

_"I know, Spike, I'm doing it," Tara says softly, and Spike sees that Xander is shrouded in that silvery green, dancing light and he slumps, watching, hoping - **begging** the universe to let it work, let it work, let it work._

_"Will he -?" But he can't say it - can barely think it - and Tara touches Xander's face - the bandage - so gently._

_"It's gone, isn't it? Caleb - took it," she says, and Spike nods, gasping after breath he doesn't need, aching so deeply in his chest that he wonders if it's his soul, crying._

_"This magic only does what...what his body does naturally, Spike. Makes it go a lot faster, but it won't.... His body **can't** grow an eye back. This won't - do that. I'm sorry, Spike, I'm so sorry...." **Tara** is crying now and he can feel misery and pain and helpless rage from the wolves and he just can't **stand** it anymore, he just **can't** and he curls himself around Xander, trapped in this nightmare. His throat is raw and his body aches and all he can think is that he should have been watching, taking care, looking **out**.... That he never should have brought his family back here, that he never should have let Xander within a hundred miles of the Hellmouth and the Slayer ever, ever again._

_He doesn't know what to do with the fury and the hurt and the horror that are welling and breaking in him like a tide of black, shattered glass and he screams to the sky - to the earth. Xander's body under him, Xander's heartbeat in his head and the scent of his blood and his skin surrounding him and Spike has never felt so desolate - so utterly, utterly alone. It's an hour before he can get himself together and get Xander upstairs and into bed. Two hours later he's getting water and the pills Giles found and he's giving Xander his first dose and smoothing his sweat-limp hair and doing whatever he can to make it all right._

 

"Spike, damnit - let me _up!_ " Xander looked angry, but his limbs were shaking and the pain was still there, underlying everything he did, and Spike gently pressed him back - curled up with him in the bed, tugging the covers over them both.

"You're not ready, love. You're still hurt and you can't do anything when you're this hurt. We're all just... resting. I promise you, okay?" Xander looked at him - single dark eye mazed with the drug and with confusion, and his hand went up to his face - to the thick bandage.

"Tell me what - happened," he said and Spike cringed. He'd told him - over and over - but the drug and the shock kept making him forget.

_*My fault, my fault, oh love, I don't want to do this to you again, please please….*_ "It was Caleb. Do you remember him?" Hesitant nod and Spike bit his lip - cuddled Xander closer, feeling the wolves coming up from downstairs.

_*Love you, love you, be all right, we're coming -*_

"He - grabbed you, he - he was stronger than me, love, and stronger than the Slayer -" _*No excuse, doesn’t mean a thing, still should have **stopped** him....*_ "And he - he hurt you, love. He - pushed his...he took your eye, love," Spike's voice had dropped to a whisper and he felt the shock of what he said go through Xander - felt him put his hand up again, and felt him shiver.

"So it's - there's nothing there? My eye is -"

_*Sorry, so sorry, my fault, love.... God, I'm so sorry -*_

"Stop it, Spike, stop it -" from Derio as the wolves come in the door and headed straight for them, tucking up on the bed like they've done every time - surrounding him and Xander both with warmth and love and _*family pack nest.*_

"Don't do that, Spike. Hey, Xander," Oz said, small smile, and Xander reached out and took his offered hand - took Derio's, and leaned back heavily into Spike.

"I'm...blind, then. I mean - I just...." Xander was pushing fear and loss down so hard that the link almost closed and they all worked to gently soothe him - to pry the link wide and comfort him. A half-hour later he was asleep again, tears tracking just _one_ side of his bandaged face and the morphine haze making the link surreal with dream-images. Oz scrubbed his hands back through his hair, looking so tired. Spike ached for him - for Derio, who'd gone silent and furious, as desperate as Spike.

"Spike - they've been talking. Tara has an idea. To get him - to get Caleb. And that - Wood, that principal? He's got something, too, he's going to be coming here in an hour." Oz's eyes looked bruised and Spike nodded silently, gently stroking his fingers through and through Xander's hair. 

Oz's own hand was on Spike's knee, rubbing slowly. "Come out with me, Spike. Me and Derio. Come hunt. You're getting thin."

"Can't, love -" The denial was automatic but the wolf flared up in Oz's eyes - in the _link_ \- and Oz was snarling at him.

" _Can_. Don't do this, Spike." _*Pack must be strong, pack leader must be **strong** *_ The wolf wouldn't take this - wouldn't stand for it. Won't let Spike just bury Xander and himself up here and _exist_. Spike knew the hyena wouldn't allow that, either, but the _demon_ \- the demon just wanted to _*protect protect family mate mine mine **mine**!*_

"I know, Spike. I know." Oz sighed - leaned forward far enough to rest his forehead gently against Spike's. "But you have to take care of yourself, you _know_ you do. Don't - "

"Don't make it worse," Derio said, his fingers curling into Spike's. He crowded in next to Spike and Oz as close as he could - touched as much as he could - shivering and desperate for the family to be whole. "It'll hurt him, when he's better, if you're all...starved. Don't do that to him."

Spike took a hard breath, _*love you love you so much, love you all*_ and finally, reluctantly, nodded. Derio hugged him and went to get Tara, returning with her _and_ Dawn. As they left, Sinclair slinked into the room, jumping up on the bed and curling into Xander's belly, and Spike felt that Xander would be all right, for a little while.

 

The hunting felt _good_. There _were_ still humans left in Sunnydale - a lot, really. But they were the ones who hadn't had as much to do with the day-to-day running of the place, and Spike knew that a number of them had moved in as the legitimate residents had moved out. It made for a very strange atmosphere, and the Bronze was, for once, not crowded with kids but with outsiders and on-the-fringe types and junkies, and Spike drank his fill and more. Then they roved over three cemeteries, taking out a few Bringers, getting into a tussle with a small, scruffy pack of werecoyotes who'd moved in from somewhere near Oakland. They wanted to make the Hellmouth their new base, but Oz convinced them otherwise. It was strange to see someone else who could shift halfway to their were-shape, and they spent a little while just talking after the threats and the snarling were done. The Oakland pack revealed ties to the American Indian community and a spell that gave them control over their form. They compared the wolf-chant to their Lakota spell and parted on friendly terms, satisfied.

Spike was feeling - settled, finally. Feeling a little more clear-headed, since Xander's pain and his drug-induced confusion wasn't right _there_ , in his head. Oz told him about Robin Wood - that his mother had been a Slayer and that he had some artifact of the Slayer line that he'd hidden for years. Something that Buffy and Giles had examined, and gotten some sort of information from.

"They've got an idea of what Caleb might be hiding," Oz said, walking between Spike and Derio, contemplating a small stone that he turned again and again in his fingers.

"What do they think, then?" Spike asked, patting his duster over for cigarettes and lighting one up with a sigh of pleasure.

"Some sort of weapon. Something made just for the Slayer." Oz sped up a little and got ahead of Spike- hopped up onto a tomb and sat there, his heels drumming faintly on the cracked granite. The link was uneasy - was too closed - and Spike just _looked_ at Oz - looked at Derio, who had joined him on the tomb.

"Sooo...what's goin' on, exactly, pet? You're not sayin' something."

Oz sighed and tossed the stone away - looked up at Spike. "You're right. They wanted you out of the house while Wood was there." Spike took a long drag and waited and Oz sighed again, the link still uneasy.

"You remember the Slayer in New York?" When Spike nodded, Oz continued. "You remember she had a kid?" Spike had to think about that for a minute. Remembered, just vaguely, a small form in the darkness - soaked to the skin and sitting small and quiet as a mouse while he and the Slayer danced in the rain.

"Yeah. Didn't think about it much. Thought about grabbing him, you know -" Spike made a gesture, his intent in the link - _*hostage, leverage, whatever I might need,*_ \- and Oz nodded.

"He - recognized you. Got pretty worked up about it, from what Buffy says. Threatened you, I guess."

Spike snorted softly, grinning at the memories. "She was a bit of all right, that one. She danced the dance...made it so pretty.... So, what - they thought he might come gunning for me? I can take care of myself, pet."

Oz shrugged, slipping his arm around Derio and resting his head on the other's shoulder. "I know. Just - he had something of hers - some artifact. Wouldn't show it unless...." The argument - which had happened sometime on the second day, when Spike had been oblivious upstairs with Xander - played out in the link and Spike had to laugh.

"He can keep his precious 'artifact'...I've no interest in it." The idea that Spike might, for some reason, swoop down and steal or destroy the thing was just too funny, and Spike felt a little better for the unintentional entertainment. The link was still tense, though - Derio in particular seemed upset about something and Spike watched him pluck nervously at the seam of his jeans.

"What else then, eh? Something else here besides keeping me from offending the principal."

"They've worked out what they're going to do about Caleb," Oz said softly. "They're going to do it tomorrow - right after first light."

Spike just stared at him for a moment - turned his back and smoked until his cigarette was gone. "Why would they do _that_ , then? I want to _gut_ that bastard -" Oz hadn't killed him - he'd shown Spike that in the link. Even half-drained by a vampire, Caleb hadn't - _wouldn't_ \- die.

"I know you do. But you can't go, Spike. This is on us. Xander needs you safe." Spike started to say something and Oz held up a hand, so _serious_ , so not-Oz that Spike just shut up.

_*My fault, God, protect family….*_

Oz shook his head, frowning a little. "Just...deal, man, because I can't fight about this, okay? I can't." The exhaustion they were all feeling broke through and the link flared with it - with the soft _*please*_ from Oz and the _*pack, protect, love you*_ from Derio. Spike closed his eyes for a moment - reached for Xander and felt only the drug-induced sleep; inarticulate dreams. He opened them again and walked to the tomb - leaned there between the wolves, taking comfort in touch and heat and two sets of arms winding around him and holding him close, keeping him _there_ and grounded and sane.

"I won't fight you, love. I won't. Tell me everything, okay? Tell me about Wood and his mum, about this weapon, all of it." Oz nodded into Spike's shoulder - kissed his neck and pressed his cheek into Spike's for a moment. Derio laced their hands together, thumb stroking over Spike's knuckles, pulling him close while Oz told him everything.

 

Spike leaned against the headboard, pillows stuffed behind him and the blankets pulled up snugly. Xander lay between his legs, head pillowed on Spike's shoulder, hands interlaced with Spike's and crossed comfortably on Xander's belly. The heat and weight felt good - the scent was _home_ ; honey-sweet, salt, clean sweat, the musk of the hyena. Xander was on the edge of needing more pills - his head hurt with a dull, stabbing throb with every heartbeat. But they were enduring it, because Oz and Derio, Giles, Tara, and Buffy were at the winery, taking care of Caleb. The link was thick with images - snatches of conversation - emotion. Spike and Xander both lay with eyes closed, focusing on the act of retribution that was playing out miles away.

 

_"There's Bringers in there, but I don't think they come out in the light much," Oz says to Buffy, and she nods, her eyes scanning the building, the scrubby bushes and trees that surround it, the littered courtyard. Restless movements that are not echoed in her body, which stands still and relaxed - ready. Tara and Giles are together on a small rise about thirty feet from the winery, and they are chanting. They are calling on the earth, they are calling root and vine to them. Calling power older than the First, maybe._

_"These old men - Shadow men - they created the First Slayer. Chose a girl and forced a bit of demon into her. Made her more than she was so she could fight the enemy." Oz sits cross-legged on the tomb, telling Spike what they saw - what the shadow-play told them, and what Buffy saw in her journey to the past. "They made her, and forced her to fight, and they made sure what she was passed on when she died. They became the Watchers." Spike lights another cigarette and has to shake his head at that, because it's the basis for everything the Watchers have ever done; that arrogance, that selfishness and that near-sightedness that has brought about their undoing, thousands of years later._

_"Sounds like the Council we all know and love," he mutters, and Derio shivers, remembering through them Glory, and what the Council tried to do._

_As the chant grows in intensity - in volume - the silvery boards of the winery building begin to shake - to creak and groan as an intangible force tightens its grip. As they watch, the building begins to rise up. Up and up on a bubble of earth, like some sort of boat on a black sea. Giles and Tara are frozen, hands tightly clasped, voices demanding - cajoling - summoning. The shiver of magic - of power so deeply  
rooted in the bones of the earth - hits Oz and Derio like a silent, leaden wave. In a moment they are deaf and dumb, pressed close to the earth, the air like syrup in their lungs. On the bed, Spike and Xander shiver and gasp, held as well._

_"So the old men made her, and these women - Guardians - they...remembered. And they made a weapon that killed the last true demon on Earth." Oz tilts his head a little, picturing it in his mind - sharing the shadow-play that had danced across the walls of the mansion and held the Potentials and Faith spellbound. Buffy's return from **inside** the play, from the past, had ended it, and she had told them the rest. Told them of the Guardians and told them that this weapon could be the thing to turn the tide. All their hopes...rested on it._

_As the bubble of earth grows, it **groans** \- it heaves and writhes and suddenly bursts, sending the walls of the winery tumbling down and spewing out Bringers and an immense, half-hewn stone. And Caleb. The Bringers fight to flee - to attack - but the earth churns and swirls, sucks them back. Caleb - who is pale and hunched in pain, his priest's costume tattered - struggles to the edge of the whirlpool of earth, his eyes lit with a zealot's unquenchable fire. The stone turns and tilts and they **all** see it - a double-ended weapon, stake and blade and long, carved haft, and Buffy leaps down into the maelstrom - rides suddenly-docile heaves of the dirt to the stone. She reaches out - hesitates - then grasps the haft and **pulls**. Still held immobile by the force of the magic, Oz and Derio feel the wave of secondary power that flows back from that act. Like Arthur freeing Excalibur, Buffy has set something in motion that they may never see the end of. But it's done, and she turns to Caleb with the weapon - the scythe - held easily in her hands._

_"You've lost, Caleb. Time to pay for what you've done."_

_Caleb's look is demonic - frenzied - and his eyes are utterly black. "Don't fool yourself, girl. The power that's massing against you is a hundred-thousand times stronger than anything you can conjure with your witch and your Watcher. A million times stronger than the pitiful handful of dirty little girls you've managed to save."_

_"I wouldn't count on that," Buffy says, in a tone of utter conviction. Then she's stepping lightly over the earth that flattens at her feet - obedient servant to the magic-user's will. Caleb, still half-mired, sneers at her and then his sneer freezes - flinches - and is gone as Buffy brings the scythe down and around in one perfect, deadly move. His head lifts cleanly from his neck, spinning and falling, rolling across the earth. Buffy steps up, out of ground zero and the earth begins to heave again - to churn and stir itself like a giant cauldron. The Bringers that have floundered and faltered are now sucked under, as Caleb is, as the rock and the ruins of the winery and the torn-up bushes are. All of it, pushed and pulled and folded back under - pushed down hard and fast and then the earth settles._

_Like a pond, the magic ripples out to the edges and then the surface is still, and the chant ends. Giles and Tara are sweat-streaked, pale, gasping for breath. They fold slowly to their knees, clinging to each other. As the magic ends the pressure is gone, and Oz and Derio move to help them. Of the winery - of all of it - nothing is left but a huge circle of roughly tumbled earth. And Buffy lifts the scythe to the sky - to the sun. Her lips say 'thank you', and the gleam of triumph makes her eyes sparkle. She **shines** , and the palpable sensation of joy - and hope - is like a kiss._

_"Buffy thinks the weapon can change everything. She thinks - it's the answer. I guess we'll find out." Oz finishes his story - looks up from Derio's hands, that are clasped in his. Spike regards them both, quiet in the link for the first time in days. Only what he **is** \- *chaos malice olderthan love love love* going out to the wolves. Then Xander flares in the link - waking and wanting and wondering, reaching out for Spike - for the wolves - and the moment is over._

 

"I think she's right, love," Spike says softly, stroking his hand over Xander's belly - pulling him close and pressing his face into Xander's neck. Tasting the sweet-spice of Xander's skin and relaxing, just for a moment.

_*I think so too. Love you, Spike. Love you so much...never leave me....*_ Xander thinks, and for a moment the pain is lost in the tide of emotion that fills the link. Hope...joy. Warm as the sun.


	26. Preparations

Thirteen days. Seven, since Spike had grudgingly allowed Xander to be up and walking about. The pain still took him at odd moments; Spike would watch, gritting his teeth, as Xander would clutch at his head if he bent down too far, or turned to look too fast. Oz and Derio had argued the both of them into going to a clinic - the only one of its kind left open in Sunnydale. The staff had been harried - snappish - but thorough, and Xander's succinct _'Fight'_ , had been enough to explain his eye. The doctor had made a swift examination - had exclaimed mildly over the swiftness of the healing and said they could leave off packing the wound. He'd given Xander a scribbled phone number for an office in San Diego and told him he could think about a prosthetic in a few months, once the socket had settled. And then they'd left.

Now Spike watched as Xander haltingly worked on a piece of sculpture, his hands shaking a little, his eyebrows drawn down in a fierce scowl. There was only a small square of gauze over the socket now, and Xander wore a dark leather patch over it. The band annoyed him.

_*Damnit!*_ Xander's frustration boiled up in the link and Spike crossed over to him, crouching down and putting his hand on Xander's thigh. Depth perception was still a bit of a problem, and his remaining eye got strained a little, doing all the work. Spike could feel the headache building.

"Leave be for a while, eh love? Come sit with me and let me make that headache go away." Spike rubbed small circles over Xander's knee and Xander poked one more time at the wood - sighed in resignation.

"I just - I really wanted to work on this," he said softly. He was _*tired*_ , in the link, and unhappy - sick of hurting and feeling useless, and struggling to suppress it all.

_*Love - don't hide. It's all right,*_ Spike thought, and Xander put his knife away - turned a little on his chair and hugged Spike to him.

"I'm sorry, Spike...I feel so -" _*Useless, damaged, what the fuck can I do now -*_

"Stop, love. Stop." Spike stood and made Xander stand up, too - drew him over to the couch and tugged him down, arranging them both until they were curled together, Xander's back to Spike's chest, his head resting on Spike's shoulder. Spike slowly and gently rubbed his fingers through Xander's hair - rubbed small circles at this temple beside his eye and matching circles on Xander's sternum. Gentle pressure and no noise - nothing else - and after about ten minutes Xander heaved a sigh and seemed to finally _relax._

_*Better, love?*_

_*Yeah. Better. M'sorry -*_

_*Stop it, pet. No 'sorry'. Nothing to be sorry for. Not your fault your head hurts.*_ There was a long silence after that, and then Spike felt the tiny tremors that grew quickly into the shakes, and he scrambled to twist around - to see Xander's face. Xander's fist was pressed to his mouth and tears were tracking down a face twisted in silent agony. Tears that were clear on one side, slightly pinkish on the other and Spike could feel the stinging pain in the socket from them - could feel the guilt and despair and he wanted to howl. Instead he pulled Xander close - tucked the dark head under his chin and just held on tight until, slowly, the storm subsided and Xander's warm, hitching breath against his neck was all that remained.

_*Please don't, please, love... Please tell me what to do - I don't know what to do, pet, I don't know how to fix it -*_

_*There's no fixing, Spike! We came back, and the Hellmouth...got its revenge and...fuck, I - I don't know what I'm gonna do, I don't.... So fuckin' tired of being….*_

"Being what, Xander? Tired of being mine? Tired of being a bloody hero to Dawn? Tired of being the one who - who fixes things? The one who -" Spike cut himself off, but not in time, and Xander laughed rather hysterically against his neck - sat up a little and wiped at his face, flinching when he pressed too hard against the wounded side.

"Being the one who sees? I don't really see _now_ , do I?"

"Yes you _do!_ " Spike didn't know how to fight the unhappiness that welled up in Xander at odd moments all through the day - didn't know how to fix it, didn't know what to _do_. Sex - which fixed most things, as far as Spike was concerned - didn't help; the increase in blood pressure made Xander's head pound and the wound ache like a broken bone, and Spike was missing the physicality of their relationship almost as much as Xander's usual optimism. And the grief was too deep - was mixed up with something _else_ \- and Spike didn't know what it was - couldn't get Xander to tell him.

"You still see! Damnit, Xander, you can't -"

"I _can!_ I - will. Fuck, Spike, I get a little moping time, don't I? Aren't I entitled?" Xander was struggling to pull away and Spike fought him - growled in sheer frustration as the headache crashed back and Xander flinched and sagged on the couch-edge, head in hands. Spike just sat there for a moment, leg crooked around Xander's hips, one foot braced on the floor, fists clenched in a fit of helpless rage.

"Xander, _stop it_. It's something else - you're not telling me something, pet. You have to! Stop hiding from me -"

"Fine!" Xander shouted, jerking halfway around and skewering Spike with a wild, tear-bleared stare that was part anger and part desolation - too much _guilt_ and Spike wanted to hold him and kiss him and just _make_ it be better.

"Here, here's what - just -" Xander opened the link wide - let it all out in a crashing wave, and Spike shut his eyes and shuddered. _Guilt_ , that was foremost - the overriding emotion. Guilt because Xander didn't want to be there - because he was regretting coming back - was wishing they never _had_ come back. And then was upset with himself, was guilty for wishing he could abandon his friends and just run and hide. He wanted desperately to take his family and just _go_. And that made him hate himself - made the words _*coward*_ and _*useless*_ and _*traitor*_ din in his head until he thought he might scream. Resentment, anger, loathing of himself. Loathing how helpless he felt - how _crippled_ \- and loathing how pathetic that was when he wasn't _dead_ like Rona, like Molly; wasn't dead, wasn't thousands of miles from home, wasn't _alone_....

The spiral of grief and hate, anger and sorrow and helplessness was building - growing - churning in him until he was sick. And somewhere, deep, deep down was the worst thing - the thing Xander struggled to hide and that Spike pounced on and dragged to the light - ruthlessly exposed because he had to _know_ , or he could never fix it at all. 

_*Ugly, God, everything else but it's fucking **ugly** and you have to look at that mess every day for the rest of fucking time and I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm so fucking sorry for doing this to you -*_

"Xander, _stop_ -" The rage was building out of proportion, fueled by frustration and despair and Xander pushed Spike sharply away - jumped to his feet and paced across the room, snarling. Letting the hyena come because he didn't know what else to do, _hating_ the pain that bewildered and maddened it, that made it feel too vulnerable.

_*C'mon then, love - let's go -*_ Spike rose also - stalked to Xander and took his shoulder in a hard grip - spun him around and was unsurprised at the fist that came at him. He ducked enough to save himself the worst of it and let his mouth stretch in a mocking grin - let William the Bloody come out and sneer, coolly unimpressed in the face of Xander's rage. "That all you got, Harris? That's pathetic, that is." 

Xander _growled_ \- his eye was a burning mote of green witch-fire in the dimness of the shuttered house and he launched himself forward with barely-leashed fury. Stinging, furious blows fell on Spike, and he backed and dodged and taunted - got in his own well-timed hits, goading Xander into more, and harder, and faster. He could feel the wolves - knew they were _there_ , in the garden, watching and waiting and holding their own grief at bay. Knowing what Xander was doing was what he _needed_ to do; willing to let it play out but ready to help, if they had to.

Xander's blows were becoming more erratic, his balance was going, but he managed to bloody Spike's lip, split his cheekbone, and suddenly he was retreating, snarling but confused as _Dawn_ flew out of the library room, eyes wide in horror.

"Xander, stop it! Stop it, you're hurting Spike! What's wrong with you, stop it, _stop it!_ " _*No no no no no*_ , denial and grief in the link and her fists pounding at Xander's chest and Xander backed off, panting. _Crying_ , choking sobs that _hurt_ , everywhere.

_*Oh God, oh God, Spike - Spike, m'sooory -*_ Xander's knees cracked painfully on the stone of the floor as he went down and Oz glided in from the garden, his eyes suspiciously wet. He gathered Dawn into a hug.

"Dawn, it's okay - he's not...it's really okay. Come on, come out here, let me talk to you -" Oz shushed her - tugged her away - and she went with a pleading look at Xander, clutching for a moment at the hand Spike put on her shoulder.

"It's all right, Bit - you go on and let the wolfling tell you what's what, yeah?"

"Okay -" Dawn whispered, and they went back out to the garden and to Derio, and the link just _ached_.

"Xander - please love - Xander?" Spike went to his knees as well. Pulled Xander close and held him tightly, stroked his back and his hair and kissed his temple and whispered to him. Crooned nonsense into his ear and rocked him until the second wave was over, until the hysterical, breathless sobs, the agonized groans, finally eased off and died down. Until Xander was limp in his arms, aching and breathless, shaking all over. Spike just pulled him in closer.

"Don't, love, don't - please don't. You didn't make us come, you didn't force us - we _all_ came, we all - _had_ to. Can't abandon the family, can't _ever_ , you know that." Inarticulate mumble from Xander, and Spike hugged him harder - let his grip loosen a little bit when Xander flinched. "You're not to blame for _anything_ , love...and I want to run, too - I want to get out of here and never fucking come back. Want to pack up the Bit and Glinda and just _go_ , and to hell with the bloody Potentials and the First and all of it, love, _all_ of it." The truth of that was in the link - the fierce ache to go and never come back.

_*Then go! Let's just go - just take them -*_ Xander's mental voice was almost hysterical - the tension was coming back into him and Spike made him sit up - _shook_ him, even though that hurt Xander's head.

" _No!_ We can't do that. Don't you _get it_ , Xander? We could never do that."

"Why _not?_ " Xander cried, but it was more a whisper - hoarse, broken voice panting out the words, his expression a mixture of desperation and hopelessness.

"Because, love, it's _family_...Niblet would never leave her sis, witchling wouldn't leave the Watcher and the mage...it's a fuckin' bloody knot that we can't undo, love - can't ever untangle this."

"I don't _care_ -" fierce whisper, but Spike shook his head, gathering Xander close again, so _fucking_ glad that the Slayers and the Potentials were all out of the house - that research and study had the magic-users oblivious in the library.

"You _do_ , love. That's the bloody irony of it all - that's the sand in the gears, yeah? You _do_ care, my love, my own - you care so bloody _much_." _*Demonslayer, builder, strong right arm...brother, lover, hearthfire, my love, sunlight and laughter, my one, my own....*_ "My knight in patchwork armor, love, forever and always. It would kill you, Xander, you know that. You'd give your other eye - you'd give your fucking _life_ for your family, you _know_ you would."

Xander shivered in his arms, crying again and hating that weak, sick feeling that washed over him. It was all too _much_ , just too much, and he clung to Spike and let his soul empty itself of everything - let it all wash out in bloody tears and heaving pants until Spike's t-shirt was wet and Xander could barely see straight - couldn't breathe through a clogged nose.

"God - fucking disgusting...Spike, I love you, I love you so much -"

"Hush now, shhhhh..." Spike whispered. "Just hush. I _love_ you. Love you always, Xander...you're so fucking beautiful, you're so damn beautiful...."

Xander shuddered - barked out a harsh, strangled laugh. _*Love is fucking blind, isn't it -*_

_*You telling me I don't know a good thing when I see it? You telling me I'm **lying** to you? You telling me you're not good enough? Don't fucking doubt me, love, don't **ever**.*_ Loud enough in the link to get a distant flinch from the wolves - to make Xander take in a sharp breath and finally, slowly, sit up, wiping his face again and again on the tails of the flannel shirt he wore.

"No. You don't lie to me, Spike. Thank God, you don't lie to me." He sat there in a heap of limbs, his legs sprawled like a child's, his face blotched and red. He sniffed and then coughed - wiped his mouth. "I feel disgusting."

"Yeah. Me, too," Spike plucked at his soaked t-shirt and Xander laughed again, this time a softer, more natural thing, and Spike smiled at him - pulled him back in. "We're not gonna die here, love - I promise you that. We're not gonna lose. We'll go home yet. Promise."

"Yeah?" Xander whispered, and Spike kissed his forehead - hair - whatever he could reach.

"Yeah. You're the good guys - good guys always win, right?"

"Good guys always win," Xander echoed, and his hand crept under the edge of Spike's shirt - rested possessive and warm on his belly. "You're good, too - you're one of us."

"M'not. M'only playing along, like. Soon as we kick the First back to some hell m'gonna go back to evil twenty-four-seven, just you wait."

"Okay," Xander mumbled, and snuggled closer - turned his face enough to kiss Spike's neck - kiss the scar that bound them so very, very closely. "I love my vampire big and bad…."

"Loves you too, pet," Spike murmured, and they sat that way for a long time, the link gradually smoothing out - the emotions from Xander calming and settling and going back, finally, towards normal. Healing some of the awful hurt, and Spike sighed in relief, in happiness at getting his Xander back, even a little. He looked up once to see Tara, just watching, and she smiled softly at him and faded away back into the library. Not so oblivious, after all.

_*Knight in patchwork armor - don't you **ever** forget.*_

_*Not with you to remind me.*_ Xander ached all over - felt sticky and sweaty and gross - and after a while they made their way upstairs and took a long bath. Afterwards, Xander took a pain pill and fell asleep, curled tight around Spike. Spike lay in the green-gold, filtered light of late afternoon and hugged his boy close, and hoped for something to make it all come out - right.

 

"What's the matter, _vato_?" Spike asked, and Derio shook his head - stood in the doorway to the garden, looking out with a preoccupied air.

"I'm not - not sure. Something…." _*Feels like something's coming. Something...powerful.*_ Unconsciously, he plucked at the string of beads that showed in the 'v' of his shirt, and Xander found his own hand doing the same. Spike's hand twitched towards his strand of beads but he stopped himself, snarling a little. Oz just grinned at him and pulled the long strand out of Spike's shirt, rattling it.

"Go ahead and worry them - we all are," Oz said, and it was true - his own fingers were twisting in his gold and yellow strand and Spike just shook his head, letting the snarl go and giving a quick caress to the beads around his neck.

"Yeah, okay. Is it the First, wolf?"

"I don't think so," Derio said. He stood stiffly for another moment and they could all feel the _knowing_ stretching out from him - could feel it twanging and shivering like a plucked string on a violin. Then the feeling faded and Derio relaxed, shaking his head. "I dunno. We just - we should just be careful, _hermanos_." He shook himself and came back inside, settling cross-legged on the floor with the rest of them where they were passing the time sharpening weapons and playing poker. So far, Xander and Derio owed Spike pretty much anything he wanted. Oz, whose poker-face was phenomenal, was in the black. Spike owed _him_ a brand-new Les Paul.

Fifteen days since they'd killed Caleb, and the last two nights, the Bringers had come back - had thrown themselves against the wards like moths into a candle flame and died just the same. The perpetual magical hum of the wards was a peculiar and irritating background to everything they did - even the Potentials were affected - but they didn't dare let them down.

Clem and his clan were still in town - although leaving by the weekend - and Spike had got the demon to find a back-hoe and come out to the house with it. In an empty part of the lot away from the house, Clem had dug a trench and the Bringer corpses were being dumped there. They'd dusted them with lye and a thin layer of dirt, and it hadn't started to stink yet, even to the wolves or Spike. It was a grisly solution but better, Spike pointed out, then corpses putrefying in the courtyard. Xander refused to burn any more of them - he hated the reek of burning flesh and fat.

The sun was setting on the far side of the house, and cooking smells were getting strong in the air. Tonight they were having a small party - a send off, really. Anya and Drake had been convinced to go to England to help find a new location for the slowly-reviving Watchers Council. Anya - nearly two months pregnant - had been the source of whispered 'talks' between Buffy, Tara and Giles for days, and the whole house had unanimously agreed with them when they'd announced that it was too dangerous anymore for a pregnant woman in Sunnydale.

The deserted campus was depressing for Drake, besides, and they'd both felt as if they could contribute more elsewhere. The Pembrokes had fervently agreed and round-trip tickets were waiting at LAX. In the morning, Anya and Drake would be driving a 'borrowed' moving van full of books and other paraphernalia south. A couple of crates were for Wes, and the rest were being shipped to London. The library was echoingly bare, but Giles and Ethan both felt that the time for research was over. There was nothing new to discover, and the only thing left was to fight. The how of that - still eluded them.

"They're here!" Dawn called, trotting out of the kitchen and toward the front door, and the poker-game ended on a laugh as Xander disgustedly threw down his only good hand of the day.

 

The dinner was slow and relaxed but melancholy. The original 'Scoobies' plus Spike told stories of the early days - told about blowing up the school, killing the Master and the Anointed One, bringing down the Judge and the Initiative. Johnathan shyly told the story of Prom and the 'Class Protector' award, and Buffy sniffled into her napkin. Even Ethan's costume trick was remembered fondly and Ethan was amazed to learn that the soldier influence had lingered for so long in Xander.

The Potentials told their own stories; how they had come to be in Sunnydale, what they had left behind, what they hoped to go back to. Around midnight a toast was made to all the ones they'd lost to the Hellmouth, and tears glittered in the guttering candlelight. Despite the sadness of it, Xander felt...right, saluting Jesse and Ms. Calendar and the kids who'd followed him into battle against the Mayor. Even Ampata, who'd only wanted to live, and Harmony who wasn't actually dead but was somewhere in L.A. (according to Cordelia via Fred) and that was nearly the same thing, or so Spike said. After that the Potentials went up to bed, and Anya and Drake made their goodbyes.

"I can't believe I...care so much," Anya said, standing with her hand on the barely-there bulge of her belly, her eyes far away and sparkling with an inner delight. "I thought it wouldn't matter until it was born. But...I love it." She sniffed and smiled over at Drake, who slipped his arm around her and hugged her close.

"I love it too...and I love you." They shared a small kiss, and then Drake looked up at the rest of them, smiling shakily. "I feel a little bit like - we should be staying. I hate the thought of leaving you all here."

"You'll be doing more good in England, Drake," Giles said warmly. "We need the Council to be back in working order no matter what happens, but _especially_ if - if things go badly here." Giles hesitated to say that - Xander could see an almost guilty look on his face - but it had to be acknowledged. Even if they won, it could cost them - everything - and they had to be ready. Xander brushed his fingers fleetingly over his patch.

_*Know all about that. But if this is the worst thing then...I'm okay, I guess. I can...live with this.*_

_*Live and love and be happy, pet. You'll see.*_ Spike rubbed his head on Xander's shoulder, their hands linked over his belly and Xander kissed the arch of his cheekbone - nibbled on an earlobe for a moment, feeling Spike's pleasure in the link.

_*Happy already, love already....not dead yet. We're all right. Love you.*_

_*Love you always.*_ The kisses and hugs goodbye took too long, but not long enough, and Dawn broke down and cried, watching the van pull away from the house and disappear into the night. Buffy and Johnathan took her away to the table to console her with the last of the cake and the rest of them settled on the couch and the rug-strewn floor, basking in the fire Oz had lit in the fireplace.

"I can't b-believe it's almost Christmas," Tara said, and there was a murmur of agreement from the others.

"I guess we won't have any kind of - celebration," Dawn said, wandering over with her plate and slumping dejectedly at Tara's feet. The witch's hand came out to stroke her hair, automatic and soothing, a very faint _*sad sad sister*_ from Tara in the link. Johnathan settled on the back of the couch with a cup of tea, and Giles stirred, but Ethan tugged him back, settling the Watcher firmly into his embrace.

"Not this year, maybe, but we'll make it up at New Years, how about that, Dawn?"

"I - guess..." Dawn sighed and ate some cake. "It's just...Christmas, you know? It just feels so...wrong."

"Christmas isn't Christmas without any presents," Buffy said, standing close by the fire and they all looked up at her, surprised. "Hey! I'm just quoting - someone…. It's a book!"

"It's _Little Women_ ," Tara said, laughing, and quoted the book again. _"Christmas won't be Christmas without any presents, grumbled Jo, lying on the rug. It's so dreadful to be poor! sighed Meg, looking down at her old dress. I don't think it's fair for some girls to have plenty of pretty things, and other girls nothing at all, added little Amy, with an injured sniff."_ Tara got a far away look on her face. "We don't have a father and mother here, like Beth says, but we have each other...." She looked at them all staring at her and ducked her head, flushing crimson, but Derio got up on his knees next to the couch and kissed her cheek.

"We do, _gatito_ , we do. We'll be fine." Tara nodded - looked back up and smiled at him. Her essence - her _self_ , intangible and gentle - swept lightly over them, _*pack family ours*_ in the link from all of them.

_*This feels - strange. Like the end. Like we're just waiting for someone to walk through the door.*_ Xander glanced towards the door and shivered, because - Hellmouth! He didn't really want to see anything there, but he couldn't help looking.

_*Never know - maybe we are,*_ Spike thought, and readjusted his head on Xander's thigh, pluming out smoke and tossing the cigarette butt into the fire.

"Yeah but, here - that's not a _good_ thing," Xander said, and shot a mock-glare at Buffy when she prodded him with her toe.

"Stop doing that! Half your conversations are in your head and then you just blurt something out and it makes me think I missed something! You're making me crazy!" Buffy laughed.

"Couldn't possibly do any _harm_ , Slayer -" Spike drawled, ready to launch into one of their verbal sparring matches. But they all froze - went silent - as headlights swept across the windows and the crunch of tires on gravel sounded loudly in the calm.

_*Who the fuck is that? It's almost one in the morning.*_

_*Maybe it's demon-girl and her Dr. Honeydew - had some trouble with the van….*_

_*Maybe - and I can't **believe** you watched The Muppet Show!*_ Everyone was scrambling to their feet and heading for the door, and Xander poked Spike in the ribs, grinning.

_*Oi! Stop that. Dru liked it, didn't she - couldn't say no.*_

_*I think Dru is a good excuse,*_ Oz chimed in, and Xander laughed out loud.

"I think so, too!" he said, and suffered a tackling hug that turned into a brief, hard kiss. Then Buffy was opening the door and Spike stiffened in his arms.

_*Bloody hell -*_

"Angel?"


	27. Upsets

"They told us...they'd cure her. They'd make her a - a higher being if I...did this." Angel was cradling an amulet in his hands - large and ugly, with a dull-yellow stone in its garish, goldish setting.

"An' you believed 'em?" Spike drawled, lighting up, and Angel shot him a frustrated, exhausted glare.

"Yeah, I did. They've been sending the visions - they've been - keeping me on track. They sent Whistler, so I could help Buffy, and they sent Doyle -"

"And they send killer migraines that are turnin' your Cordelia's brains to mush. And we _all_ know how you and the Slayer worked out...." Spike grunted when Xander's elbow jabbed into his side and he hissed, turning his head to scowl at his human.

_*Stop it, evil undead. You're not helping.*_

_*Don't particularly **want** to help -*_

_*We can't let Cordy die! If he's willing -*_ Under the concern for Cordelia and the empathy Xander was feeling towards Angel and his plight was the faint, hastily squashed _'thank God, this will end it, mine will be safe, we can go home, go home, go home, thank God.'_

Spike grinned nastily and looked back at Angel, who was sitting in a slumped posture on the edge of the couch, suffering with eternal forbearance Tara's sympathetic clucking, Buffy's silent grip on his wrist, the murmured words of Giles and Ethan discussing the amulet, the Powers, the possibilities that this was _it_ , the one thing that would save them.

_*Miserable brooding bastard.*_ Spike settled himself more comfortably, arm around Xander's waist, both of them sprawled on pillows on the floor by the hearth.

_*I thought you two kinda - made up?*_ from Oz, and Spike rolled his eyes, pluming smoke towards the fireplace.

_*He's still an utter git. Who'd believe such tripe?*_ But Spike subsided, leaning against Xander and stretching his bare feet towards the fire. Stroking his hand gently through Xander's hair and snarling silently when his fingers touched the band of the patch. _*I'll believe it if it'll get you out of here, pet. Anything….*_

_*Love you.*_

"So what - what does the amulet do?" Oz asked quietly, and Angel shook his head.

"I don't know. They wouldn't tell me...Cordelia said they didn't know, but...they just said it would destroy the First's army."

"An army of Turok-Han..." Giles murmured, and Angel sighed.

"I don't know what could destroy an army of those things. I think - whatever it does - I'm not going to survive it."

_*I think he's right,*_ Derio thought, and Spike looked over at him in surprise.

_*Why d'ya think that, wolf?*_

_*I don't - know. I feel...something. There's -*_ Derio was sitting in the corner of the couch and he pushed himself to his feet suddenly, head cocked as if listening. The link was quiet except for what Derio could feel - the _knowing_ thrumming like the plucked strand of a spider-web. It seemed to come from nowhere and everywhere, and Derio circled the room uneasily, pausing often to listen, his eyes flashing to black and then clearing, again and again - his anxiety like fever-shivers, creeping over them all. Xander and Oz both tensed, wolf and hyena rising up. Spike could feel a headache starting in Xander's temple - in the back of the empty socket - and he rubbed his knuckles lightly up and down Xander's neck, hoping to stave it off.

"But - you can't leave Cordelia and Connor all alone…. There _has_ to be another way, Angel." Buffy said, plucking the amulet out of his hands and glaring at it.

"I don't want to do this to them but...it's just the way it has to be," Angel replied, and his voice was very, very soft - full of pain and sorrow and Spike snapped, Derio's unease getting to him as well as Angel's misery.

"Why don't you ever _fight_ , damnit, Angel!" he snapped, and Angel pushed himself to his feet and stalked over to him - stood there staring down at him, his expression haggard and tense.

"Fighting this means Cordelia dies. That's not going to happen, Spike," he said, and Spike shook his head. He untangled himself reluctantly from Xander and the pillows they were propped against and stood up, reaching to put one hand on Angel's shoulder, squeezing hard.

"How do you _know?_ How can you just...give up? Give her up, and Connor?" _*God - wouldn't do that to you, pet, wouldn't.*_

_*You'd do whatever you had to, Spike, just like I would. Love you…let it go - he feels bad enough.*_ Xander stood up as well, getting an arm around Spike and rubbing his hand slowly up and down his side. Soothing and reassuring and Spike leaned into him and sighed.

"Yeah, okay. Okay, love. I'll let it go." Spike let his hand slip off Angel's shoulder but the other vampire didn't move away - simply sagged, head down, and Spike felt a moment's sympathy. Xander hugged him, and they stood there in silence, 'listening' to Derio. Faith had gone up to bed already, taking Dawn and Johnathan with her in an unusual display of tact, muttering something about 'old lovers' and getting a glare of disapproval from Buffy. The fire in the fireplace was burning low, radiating comforting heat and the good smell of burning apple-wood. Giles and Ethan were still deep in conversation and Tara was watching Derio with a worried look. Buffy was examining the amulet with squinted eyes, as if looking for a secret or a hidden catch.

Derio stopped again, listening, then resumed his pacing - stopped right beside them and Spike could see his hands shaking - could feel the strange twisting of the _knowing_ as something pinged it again and again. Angel eyed Derio uncertainly, looking unhappy to be so near a nervous werewolf. Spike's beads burned faintly against his chest and he reached into his shirt to pull them out - to touch them. Angel tipped his head quizzically, glancing up at Spike with a question in his eyes. Derio morphed further towards the wolf and whined low in his throat and Angel looked up from studying the strand of Spike's beads and turned to him sharply, frowning.

"Can you _stop_ that? Jesus -"

Oz was up and on him in a flash, snarling, more than half wolf and right in Angel's face, and Angel recoiled. "'Uck ov," Oz growled, and Angel put up a hand, placatory gesture that Oz ignored. Derio lifted his head suddenly and was just as suddenly human again. Whatever it was was closer - was _strong_. The link was buzzing like a downed wire, cresting wave of power and it began to feel - horribly familiar.

"What _is_ that?" Angel said and then Buffy made a small squeak of surprise as the wards suddenly flared, dancing sheets of pale green fire up the doors and windows. Ethan grabbed Giles' hand - grabbed Tara's and they stood, drawing together, concentrating, _*light light no harm shall pass*_ faintly from Tara.

"What the _fuck_ -" Spike muttered, and the beads thrummed in his hand, _their_ power in the link as well, adding to the overall chaos of energies that were swirling through the house.

"It's - something trying to....get in...." Xander was rigid under Spike's arm, and they both felt the strange, roiling energy that they'd felt before. Stronger, this time - mixed with something else. _*Not pack not pack not pack,*_ from the wolves - from the hyena. The demon was silent, but its energy was so malevolently furious that Xander actually flinched away from Spike for a moment.

_*Sorry, love - sorry. God, it's - is it? Why…?*_

_*It is - Jesus, who **else** is there?*_ Oz and Derio were both growling, sing-song wail that was getting louder and louder.

"Anybody have any ideas?" Buffy said just as the wards by the front door sent up a fountain of sparks, white-hot and roaring. Tara, Giles and Ethan all cried out, flung apart and stumbling, Ethan going down to one knee. Blood trickled down from one side of Tara's nose and Spike felt the demon's roar rattle out of his chest.

"What is it?" Giles cried, loud and angry and suddenly the wards fell - flared and sank away as if they'd never been and - _Jack_ strode through the door.

"It's uninvited company," Spike grated, staring at the Sidhe with the demon's furious gaze.

Jack stood there smirking, still in his leather bomber jacket and ragged jeans, ancient and raveling backpack hanging from one shoulder. "Now, that's not very hospitable, is it, vampire? Not hospitable at _all_." Jack grinned, and his eyes sparked red behind the fall of messy, feather-starred hair. _Something_ was with him - something lurking out of sight still, and Spike pushed past Angel, who was game-faced and growling but unmoving. He put himself carefully between the others and Jack and felt Xander at his shoulder - felt Oz and Derio come up on the other side, and finally saw Angel come to stand beside Xander, human again. Spike didn't bother with human - he had nothing to hide.

Buffy pushed in front of Angel, scowling. "Who the hell are you? How do you know Spike? What -"

Jack held up an elegant hand, fingers spread, his ring glinting dully in the light. "All in good time, Slayer," he said, and Buffy's mouth snapped shut in surprise.

"Tara, are you all right? Giles -?" Xander asked, and there was a murmur from behind them, and then Giles' voice, a little shaky.

"We're all right. But I - we all - would like an explanation for...what happened."

"This is Jack. Remember? I told you about him," Xander said, and Spike could hear the Watcher's heart kick up a notch, and Glinda's, too. Fear in the air, a little. From the mage was something else - excitement. Spike wanted to turn around and shake the man but he took a deep breath and tried to calm down instead.

_*Not pack!*_ was screaming in the link from all of them and Xander's _*calm, calm, c'mon, calm down -*_ was making the demon snarl, confused and angry.

"What are you doing here, Sidhe?" Spike grated, and he saw Angel react to that - heard the intake of breath from Ethan and Tara

"Oh, I'm here for lots of reasons....but only one to do with _you_." Jack cocked his head to one side, his eyes sparking red and his _otherness_ like a waver of heat around him, scraping on all their nerves. "As for what happened...your wards tap energy that we - were born controlling. You can't keep us out with that." Jack surveyed the room and his gaze lit on Xander. His eyes narrowed in what looked like surprise as, Spike was sure, he noticed the patch. Spike bared his teeth, daring the Sidhe to say anything and Jack shrugged, looking away. There was something _else_ , though....

"What's skulking in the bushes, then? Tell it to show itself," Spike snapped, and Jack grinned.

"He's afraid, is all," Jack said, and there was a _huff_ of explosive breath-sound and the scrape of something hard - stone? - over the stone of the courtyard.

"I'm not afraid!" a voice called, and Jack laughed softly.

"Come in here, then! Come see," Jack said, coaxing voice, and something stirred in the darkness by the door - some _further_ darkness that Spike's eyes couldn't penetrate. Then it separated and reformed and came inside. A young man - or something that _looked_ like a young man - with Jack's dusky skin and foam of tangled hair; red-glowing eyes like coals, nothing like the faded spark in Jacks. He was whipcord-muscle and bone, long fingers and smirking mouth, dressed in the same street-dweller rags of worn jeans, raveling sweater and cracked, sprung boots. He stood for a long moment in the doorway and then glided forward, pure predator in every step and Spike took one step forward, growling. Angel did the same, although he looked confused as well as protective. The link seethed with furious emotion and Derio was shifting again, losing his hold on the wolf.

"You've added another wolf to the fold, then," Jack said, eyeing him. "And another vampire. You _do_ collect odd friends, Xander." Beside Spike, Xander shrugged, his eye as green as sour apples, glinting eerily.

"I pick and choose the best," Xander said, and his voice was harsh as he struggled against the hyena. _*Wasn't this bad before, why is it so **strong**? God - what the hell does he **want**...?*_

"You're upsetting our hosts, pooka," Jack said suddenly, and he turned and laid his hand on the other's shoulder. "You need to ward that." The other shot him a sullen look but shrugged, and suddenly the air seemed to move around him and the _*other outsider wrong wrong wrong*_ of him eased off - went away almost entirely and it was just Jack's peculiar, thundery energy left.

" _Pooka_ ," Angel breathed, and the pooka looked at him and grinned, showing small, very white teeth. His canines were very sharp.

"Heard of me then, have you?" he said, and Jack made a clucking sound.

"No time for that nonsense, pooka." Jack took the backpack off his shoulder and eased it to the floor - took up a stance that was relaxed and easy, as if trying to prove his harmlessness. "If you've any of that beer, Xander, I'd take a dram or two -"

"Is this something _social?_ " Spike snapped, and Jack shot him a laughing glance.

"This is the saving of the world, vampire - what better way to start then with a drop of beer and maybe a bit of that cake?" He pointed with his chin at Dawn's abandoned plate and Spike wanted to _leap_ on him - wanted him _out_ and away from his family.

"Look - what the hell is going on? I want someone to explain all this _right now_." Angel looked furious, as did Buffy beside him, and it was Tara's soft voice that startled them all.

"If you'll sit and share a bite with us, we'll talk. Will you be our guest?" She was suddenly right there, _much_ too close to Jack and his pooka, standing easily in her long skirt and cardigan, her hands held out in a gesture of greeting. Derio moved _fast_ to her side, and Oz did, and Jack made a small bow in her direction.

"You are the lady of the house, that much is plain. We would both thank you for your hospitality, _chovexani_."

Tara blanched at that word and then bowed her head a little. "Please sit, then, and I'll bring you something," Tara's voice was calm - _she_ was calm, and she half-turned towards the rest of them, her head high and her gaze going sharply to Giles and then to Ethan. "Please make our guests welcome," she said softly and turned and walked towards the kitchen. Spike took a step after her and hesitated for a long moment, torn. Xander touched his shoulder.

"I'll go with her. You stay out here, okay?"

"Yeah," Spike said, relived that Tara wouldn't be alone. _*Find out what in hell she's doing, love, yeah? Fuckin' bastard knows something -*_

_*We'll figure it out. It'll be okay.*_ Oz was calmer now - was deliberately pushing the wolf down and away, the wolf-chant in the link like a faint heart-beat. As Xander hurried across the room to catch up to Tara, Spike made a wide gesture with his arms, finally pushing the demon aside.

"Come and sit, then," he said, scowling at Angels' abortive attempt to intervene. "And why didn't your bloody fire-work display attract any attention?" He'd half-expected the Potentials to have come thundering down the stairs after the commotion.

"Oh, you mean the girls?" Jack asked, looking pointedly _up_ and Spike hissed. "They're sleeping a little extra-hard tonight. No harm," he added, holding up his hands. They walked forward and settled on the hearth, the pooka turning and warming his hands for a moment. The Watcher and the mage resumed their seats on the couch, and Angel went to stand at one end of the mantle and the Slayer went with him. Oz settled cross-legged in front of the couch and after a moment Derio joined him, not fully human yet, but trying. Spike just stood where he was, arms crossed and legs planted wide, ready for a fight if came to that. They waited, silent.

 

"It's pretty quiet out there," Xander said softly, nervousness fluttering in his stomach like prickly butterflies.

"It'll be all right. Can you get two of the green plates down?" Tara asked, her voice serenely calm and even. Xander had to smile at that and stretched to reach the top of a tall cabinet, lifting down two white plates that were painted with a design of morning-glory vines and flowers. Something Buffy and Dawn had brought from the Revello Drive house - something not much used.

"You're really going all out, here. What's - what're you doing, exactly?" Xander asked as Tara carefully cut two slices of cake and placed them neatly on the plates.

"I'm...invoking something. If we make them our guests - give them food and drink - it invokes the law of hospitality."

"Never heard of it," Xander said, getting two of Spike's imported beers uncapped and onto the tray Tara had unearthed.

"It's...old. Very old. It's one of the few things they'd respect. We give them this, and that makes them our guests. We have to protect them from any harm that might come at them under our roof _and_ -" Tara raised her voice just a little and Xander grinned, shutting his mouth closed over the indignant remark he had just been going to make.

"And?"

"And...in turn, they have to keep any harm that might have followed them away from us. They can't harm anyone under the roof that has taken them in, and they can't tell any lies that might harm us while they're our guests."

"Oh!" Xander was impressed, and he relayed it to the others, feeling an easing of the tension in Oz and Derio and a mental snort of disbelief from Spike. _*Sounds like a good thing.*_

_*We'll see,*_ Spike grumbled. _*They're not to be trusted.*_

"Okay. Ready. Can you carry this, Xander?" Tara wiped her hands on a towel and pushed her hair back, and Xander reached past her and grabbed the salt-shaker off the table and put it on the tray.

"Sure I can, Tara. Ummm...what was that word? The word he called you - cho-ves -?"

" _Chovexani_. It's a Romany word. A gypsy word," she clarified, when Xander gave her a puzzled look. "It means witch."

"Oh." Xander picked up the tray - did a small double-take and looked at Tara. "So, you - you're -"

"I'm...my family is Romany. Yes," Tara said quietly, and all Xander could do was nod.

_*No wonder her dad wanted her back so bad,*_ from Oz, and Xander resolved to think about it _later_. Right now, they had Jack to deal with, and that was quite enough.

"Okay. Right. Let's go." They both walked back out to the living room and their guests.

 

"That was really quite delicious," Jack said, tipping his beer up to drain the last drops. Beside him, the pooka was idly picking at the label on his own bottle. He'd finished off the cake in quick, wolfish bites and drunk the beer down just as fast. Jack had verbally restrained him from getting up at least three times and now the magical signature that he'd tamped down earlier was starting to build back up, making hackles rise all over the room.

"Thank you," Tara said from her place in the armchair and Jack nodded to her - turned an expression of pure exasperation on the pooka. 

"All right, then! Go!" he snapped, and the pooka bounded to his feet and started to move over the room, examining books and weapons, cracks in the walls and the shadows in the corner. His energy jangled along their nerves but it was still more subdued than before, as if the simple physical act of going and doing kept it from building up too strong.

*Fairy with ADHD,* Xander thought, and Spike made a sort of snorting noise.

"Can we please get to the point now?" Angel looked ready to blow, and Jack looked up at him, pushing hair and feathers back out of his face.

"Patience is a virtue, my good Angelus," he said softly, and Angel recoiled a step, staring at him.

"My name is _Angel_."

"Your _name_ is _Angelus_ , and the blood you shed and the magics you toyed with are like a dark smoke all around you, to those as can see it. As Xander most likely can see it." Jack shot Xander a sly look and Xander frowned at him.

"I've never looked at - at Angel."

Jack's eyebrows went up in surprise, and the pooka laughed from his place near the library doors.

" _Told_ you," he said, and Jack looked angry for a moment, then shrugged.

"To each his own. I'm here to talk about the First - and about that...weapon you so were so fortuitously given."

" _What_ do you know about any of that?" Giles growled, _*darkman darkman*_ rising up and rippling out, and Jack looked at Giles appraisingly.

"I know that the First is...taking liberties. And I know that the Powers - as they call themselves - are being...."

"Being the same as always. Lords of the Manor," the pooka said, and picked up a sword from its place in an open duffle - swung it easily through the air, making it sing.

"Leave it be," Spike snapped, and the pooka grinned at him.

"Want to make me?" he purred, and Spike was across the room - _on_ him, fist in the laddered front of his dusk-blue sweater, his other hand gripping the thin wrist, forcing the sword down.

_*Jesus, Spike! Don't -*_

"Jack tasted damn good - what do _you_ taste like, pooka?" Spike hissed, demon to the fore, and the pooka tipped his head back - he was about four inches shorter than Spike.

"Dunno - wanna try? Call me Scavenger, eh vampire? We should be friends." The pooka was _too_ close - one long-fingered hand stroking too intimately along Spike's chest and Xander felt the growl in his chest - strode over to them just as Spike was stiff-arming the pooka backwards.

"Fuck off, _Scavenger_. You'll get no scraps."

"Too pretty not to try," Scavenger said, grinning, his eyes like burning coals.

"Enough!" Jack barked, and they all swung around to stare at him, jolted by the whiplash of power that had flared through the room. Scavenger hissed and slunk away, going halfway up the stairs and huddling down over his knees. "We've things to discuss. The First - has overstepped itself, and the Powers - are being stubborn. It will not be tolerated." Jack uncoiled gracefully and his glamour was gone. He stood there in the coat of maybe-velvet, maybe-leaves, his angular face longer and his limbs too thin. He was frowning.

_*Xander, love - can you...can you still **see**? Can you look at him?*_

_*I - don't know. I haven't tried, since....*_ They both shuddered at the brief flash of memory, and Derio and Oz both immediately moved closer, soothing unconsciously through the link.

_*Be all right, love,*_ Spike added, answering pressure of his arm around Xander and Xander nodded - shut his eye for a moment.

" _Taisbean_ ," he whispered, and looked. _*It works...still works....*_ he thought, with a little upsurge of relief that caught him off guard. If it _hadn't_ worked...would it have really mattered? 

Jack looked the same - coat flickering between velvet or brocade and whatever it _really_ was - leaves and flowers, maybe, or the thin skin of birds. There were more feathers in this hair than before, and a thong tied around his left thigh, with beads and feathers and what looked like a bone hanging down. He noticed Xander _looking_ and nodded, flashing a sharp-edged grin; his face and body stretched and thinned and then settled again into the angular not-quite-humanity of the brocade coat-self. The sparks still danced and swirled, and the amusement was still there - the casual malice of the stalking cat. But no real harm.

_*Truth. He's not lying, unless he can hide that. But I don't think so.*_ They went back towards the fireplace, gathering in a loose circle that included the couch. Jack stood there, his hands clasped loosely behind his back. He nodded to Xander once, the spark in his eyes, and then he turned to the group.

"We're...from outside. We see things. We know things. That - amulet - _will_ defeat the First's army, but at the cost of the life of the bearer." Jack looked down, then up again, his smile lazy and razor-edged. "Normally, we wouldn't care. What's one less vampire? Or human - or anything else? But this time.... Something's different. Angelus - you cannot wield this."

"I can and I _will_. I'm not going to let Cordelia die, and that's final."

"She'll die anyway, if you do," Jack said mildly, and Angel _growled_. Xander stared at him - and stared again, feeding his image into the link. Angel's demon was in the arms of his soul - held so tightly it could barely move. Both of them looked ill - exhausted - sick at heart. Ready for the end. But there was something else. A delicate line of mist and sparks, barely there. It flowed out from Angel's heart, and away up into the air. Exactly the same as Buffy. A tether. A line - straight to heaven. The gold and deep blue sparks that swirled and flowed around Angel flowed _up_ that tether, and back down, slow dance of light.

_*No wonder. He was - he was in heaven. Like Buffy. No wonder it was so awful, to have his soul returned. And every time it's been lost and brought back -*_ Xander shuddered. God - how horrible it must be. And Angel must know. Must feel it, like Buffy felt it.

_*What's the matter with him? He looks -*_ Derio was wide-eyed, contemplating the images that Xander was showing them. _*Spike's demon doesn't look like that.*_

_*Mine's not been kept locked up in some mental box for a century and a half,*_ Spike thought.

"If this amulet will kill the bearer then you're right, Angel must not bear it. We'll find some - other way of dealing with the First." Giles spoke quietly, but his voice was inflexible - his look hard.

Jack tipped his head in acknowledgement but then shook it, the smile fading a little. "No - it must be borne. It must be - used. Used by someone not-human. Someone stronger than a human, and someone with a soul." There was dead silence at his words, and then Buffy made a small noise, stepping forward. Her eyes were huge in her thin face, and her hand was shaking as she held the amulet up. Tara moved up with her, hand on her arm and Buffy looked at her for a moment before turning to Jack.

"It's for me then. I'm - I'm supposed to wear it. That - makes sense -"

"Buffy, no -" Giles said, anguished, and Jack held up his hand. 

"No Slayer, not for you," he said softly. Scavenger had come down from the stairs and sidled up behind him - stood there now, frowning up at all them from behind the tangled hair that hid half his face.

"Just get to it, Jack," he said softly. In the _seeing_ he was a swirl of black energy - of deep-red and crystal-blue sparks. A horse's shadowy outline hovered around him, tossing its head. Xander felt a growing sense of panic - of inevitability, and he pushed it sharply away.

_*No, no, no. Fuck no. Oh God -*_

_*Xander, what -?*_

"No," Jack said, not looking at Buffy - not at all. "The Powers are quite...adamant that the amulet be worn by -"

" _No!_ No. Jack, stop it -" Xander felt like he might be sick - like he just might go over to the Sidhe and hit him - or take the amulet and smash it on the stone of the fireplace. He was shaking, he could feel it, but he didn't know what to _do_ about it.

_*Love -*_

_* **No**. Not human, with a soul? That could be me. Or Oz or Derio. But they sent it to **Angel**. They want -*_

"Some things can't be changed, Xander," Jack said, and for the first time Xander saw his smile waver - saw something like uncertainty in the narrow face.

" _This_ is going to be changed! This is _not_ going to happen!" Xander felt Spike's hand on his arm and he groped blindly for it - clung with a grip that would leave bruises. Behind Jack, the pooka was looking - angry. He made a snarling sort of face, and stepped forward.

"Jack - _tell_ them."

"You overstep yourself, pooka," Jack grated, and Ethan glided up to both of them, his eyes shining with a manic light.

"We're _all_ instruments of chaos here, gentlemen. But I've got some favors owed me that you may not like. Explain yourselves, or you _will_ be very, very sorry.

_*Infinite ending beginning chaos cold cold cold,*_ that was Ethan's power, revving up against Jack's and for a moment everyone was simply frozen. Then Jack lifted his hand and pushed the air, gently, and Ethan's power - Giles' - even the _link_ , for one awful moment of time was dead. Jack looked at Xander - looked at Spike, and his eyes were sorrowful and dark as pits.

"The amulet is for a vampire. The amulet is for Spike," Jack said. And all hell broke lose.


	28. Solutions

Xander had no conscious knowledge of the hyena rising - of Oz and Derio shifting, or Spike. All he knew was _*rage*_ boiling up hot and fast and utterly overwhelming. He was going to _kill_ Jack. Stop him. Something - _anything_ \- to undo what he'd just said. As he launched himself he saw, with a sort of detached alarm, that Scavenger was changing as well. Blackness and sparks swirling up - higher, denser - seeming to pull _more_ of themselves from the air around them. Before his hands even touched Jack, a wall of lightless black sateen rose between them and a _horse_ was standing there.

Xander hit it hard, knocking himself back and knocking the breath out of himself. Spike grabbed him, yanking him close, _*protect pack **damnit** Xander, gonna get yourself hurt!*_ slamming into him from the vampire. Xander hadn't ever considered a horse even marginally frightening before but this one _was_. It was amazingly tall, a solid expanse of black hide and smoky-black hair; feathered hocks over hooves like dinner-plates and behind the thick spill of the forelock the eyes glowed with a fire as deep and bloody red as a ruby. The horse - _Scavenger_ \- shifted, head lowering, lips drawn back to show sharp, ivory teeth. He shook his head, making a squealing sort of sound and suddenly lashed out, bunched quarters flowing and lengthening as the lethal hooves swept through the air, millimeters from Oz's head. Oz danced aside, snarling, as the horse's head swung after him, hooves scraping on the stone of the hearth and one massive shoulder swinging into Angel, sending him stumbling and sprawling into the couch. Tara 'eeeped' and jumped out of his way, her eyes huge with fear. Derio was snarling - was poised to leap - and Xander caught sight of Jack, somewhere behind Scavenger.

A profound sadness showed on his face - a hopelessness and weariness and Xander stopped - just stopped still. Grabbed Spike's arm and pulled him closer. _*Derio! Stop, stop. Wait, okay?*_

_*Not pack not pack not pack!*_ Derio's eloquence had escaped him and Oz shouldered between horse and wolf - pushed Derio back and back, whimpering low in his throat.

_*Calm, please, mi amor, safe, we're safe....*_ Derio retreated finally, whuffing displeasure deep in his chest, both wolves at bay between Tara and the Sidhe. Buffy had hauled Angel to his feet and was dusting him off and he looked furious and a little shamefaced. Ethan had danced aside from Scavenger's shift and now stood with Giles, who had wound an arm around the slighter man and was holding him, whispering in his ear. It looked like Giles was trying to calm Ethan down, or at least talk him out of something.

"Jack, I...I won't accept what you're telling me. I will _not_." Xander held up a hand to forestall Jack, who had opened his mouth to speak. "But I'll listen to whatever explanation or story or...prophecy you think you know. We _all_ will." Xander caught Tara's gaze with his - Giles and Buffy - and they all three nodded minutely.

_*Christ, love, now's not the bloody time to be the white hat!*_

_*I have to know **why** he thinks this is the only way, Spike. If we know - what he knows, we can change it, or - or figure out something else. We have to **know**.*_ The demon's fury was still so strong in the link Xander's heart was pounding like a drum, and Spike snarled, snapping his fangs at the pooka. But he stepped back, one reluctant step, and Xander saw Jack relax just a fraction.

"Let's all just - calm down. And can - can we go back to...something more human?" Xander gestured at the pooka, who had planted itself squarely in front of Jack. Jack leaned under the heavy, arched neck and slapped it roughly, his face grave.

"We can and we shall and we must, Xander. I don't need protecting, pooka," Jack added, his tone gone to coaxing again, and the horse lifted his head and let out a pealing, throat-extended roar of a sound, bell-like and reverberating and they all flinched from it. Then the reversal - the swirling black and sparks of the essence of the pooka flying apart and leaving a dark-skinned, dark-haired youth, naked and scowling. He glared at all of them, but gradually the flare of red faded from his eyes and he snorted and tossed his head, as horse-like in this aspect as the other. Jack touched his shoulder and said something, low, and he hissed. But after a moment his homeless-guy clothes faded back into existence and he went with studied slowness to the fireplace and crouched down, watching them all.

"Nu-'ice 'rick," Oz slurred, only half-way to human, as naked as Scavenger but not as comfortable. He accepted a ratty tartan throw from Tara and a moment later he and Derio were both sitting on the couch, laps covered. Tara moved closer to them, making room for Giles and Ethan, who perched on the edge. Ethan's magic still skirled around him, under control but evident, and there was a faint _*not pack*_ from Derio, and then nothing.

Angel and Buffy both stood in a kind of 'ready' stance, as if they would need to fight in the next few minutes. Everyone's energy - everyone's _soul_ \- was agitated - alert and spoiling for a fight. So much color, so much motion that Xander whispered the ending-word, his head starting to pound and the empty socket aching. He rubbed briefly at the patch and then settled cross-legged with a sigh, tugging Spike down with him.

_*You all right, love? We can do this later, we can -*_

_*No - I'm fine. I want to know, Spike. I have to.*_

_*Yeah. Love you.*_

"Where to begin?" Jack mused, tipping his head to one side, studying Xander and then Spike and then Angel, brows drawn down. "I told you once about the Seelie Court. And that I am _not_...of them. I am of the Un-Seelie court. And we have been charged, for all the long ages of the world, with a task...." Jack shifted a little, and behind him Scavenger reached into thin air and pulled out a small, leather pouch. He began, methodically, to roll a cigarette.

"You cannot carry this amulet, Angelus, because you are needed elsewhere, at another time, in a battle that will be equal to this one." Jack raised a hand as Angel started to speak, and the vampire subsided. "Your fate is set in this. The Powers That Be not only do not have the scope to see beyond their own petty whims, but they are ignorant of many, many factors."

"How do _you_ know this? How can I - can _we_ \- trust you?" Angel snapped, and Jack shrugged, tiny smile slipping across his face.

"We are not _of_ here, not in the way you and your kind are. We are the olders - the outsiders - and we see...oh, much further than any of you. This place - this _time_ \- is a meetpoint for many, many times and places. Losing it would cause more harm than can be imagined. In any _other_ world, Glorificus opening a portal to her dimension would not have caused the destruction of all things." There was a small gasp from Buffy at that, and both she and Giles looked alarmed. "Only _here_ \- at this place - is there such danger- and such possibilities."

_*How in **hell** did he know? Has he been watching us? Fuck -*_ "How do you - do you _watch_ us?" Xander could hear the incredulity and the _anger_ in his voice, but what he felt was a cold, paralyzing fear.

"Of course we watch, Xander. You're marked, you know - gifted." Jack actually _grinned_ , this time, and Xander felt Spike stiffen under his arm. "We don't let your kind out of our sight, ever."

" _His_ kind? What the fuck does _that_ mean?" Spike growled, and Jack brushed at the hair that fell across his eyes, brushing his finger down a blue-jay feather.

"His kind. Fey. _Different_ , vampire, and you knew that _long_ before you knew of his gift."

_*Bloody bastard. **He** didn't make you special -*_

_*It's okay.*_

"I want to know why you think Spike should carry the amulet. We're not simply going to turn him over to you and watch him be - become dust." Giles spoke in a low, measured tone, but _*darkman*_ was there as surely as Ethan's ice-crystal chaos, and Scavenger's eyes widened as he looked over at the older men. He took a hard pull of his smoke and tossed the butt into the fireplace, where it sent up a tiny shower of green-blue sparks.

"Not even if he _wanted_ to? Not even if he agreed?" Jack asked, silky-low voice a purr and a threat and Ethan made a choking sort of laughing sound.

" _William the Bloody_ voluntarily giving up his - life - and his family? You must be utterly barking," Ethan wheezed, and a flash of humor and grudging affection from Spike shot through the link. Oz grinned over at the man and nodded.

"Have to agree with him. Spike's…."

"He's not _me_. He doesn't have a - destiny. He's _not_ the champion." Angel looked outraged, but also slightly desperate and shrugged off Buffy's placating hand with a frown.

"Such certainty! Perhaps you'll change your minds." Jack looked down at his fingers where they were twining in the frayed edge of a hole in his jeans. When he looked up, his face was grave again - almost frightened - and Xander wanted to scream - wanted to make him _stop_ \- make _this_ stop, right now.

"There is a prophecy.... It tells of a champion of the people. And how he will sacrifice his life for them, and how, as his reward...." Jack sighed, and shook his head minutely. "His reward will be to return to this plane of existence as a human. A pure, souled human; and all his deeds from the past will be forgiven forever."

"Bugger _that_ ," Spike growled into the moment of shocked silence that followed. "If wearin' that means I turn _human_ I'll take it and smash it to bits right now. I _like_ being a demon, mate, and I won't fuckin' do _anything_ to change that."

"Angel?" They all turned at Tara's soft question, and Angel was standing there looking - looking as if he might cry, actually. Or rip someone's lungs out.

"That's - that's _Shanshu_ , that's...Wes read about it, he told me -"

"Told you it was for _you_ , mate, and that's obvious. Only you'd want to give up...everything and be _human_ again." Giles made a strangled sound of protest but Angel ignored him.

"Only I would want to be free of centuries of torture and murder and blood and pain…."

"You're a demon, mate. Cope and move on, as the Niblet says." Spike looked at Scavenger, eyes narrowed, and made a little gesture and Scavenger grinned and tossed the little pouch toward him. Spike opened it and took a sniff and started rolling a cigarette with nimble fingers. "Looks like Angel's still your man, Sidhe," he said, and Jack slowly shook his head.

"I'm - afraid not, Spike. This amulet...truly won't _work_ for him." Spike had stilled, and now rage was building in him again -one that Xander matched.

"What does _that_ mean? What'd you do to it?" Xander felt his voice rising and tried to throttle it back, but not very successfully. "Did you just come here to - to torture us with this? I will _not_ let Spike _die_ , Jack! Find another way!"

"Oh, but we _have_ , Xander! We have."

"Then _tell us_ , for fuck's sake! Stop torturing my boy, Sidhe, or you're gonna be damn sorry."

"You're talking in riddles! Just _say_ it!" Derio echoed, agitation and fear, anger and pain in the link from all of them - from _Tara_ , because she was close enough, and even Buffy's Slayer-vibe seemed to be going out of control.

"Tell them, Jack, you _tuili_ ," Scavenger muttered. Spike finished making his smoke - tossed the pouch back to Scavenger and lit up.

"We talked about the tithe to hell, vampire. Some hell, some time...you remember?"

"Course," Spike said, pluming thick smoke towards him.

"If you agree - if you carry the amulet...we can see that you don't die. We can - we _will_ \- take you...elsewhere. Keep you safe. In return, you will stay with us for...a time."

The pain in Xander's head was like molten iron being poured over his brain, and he leaned forward, head in his hands, eye clenched shut. "Tell us in plain fucking _English_ , Jack, swear to fucking _God_ -" Spike's cool hand on the back of his neck made him gasp and he fought tears of rage and frustration, waiting for Jack to explain. Looking up through his hair at the Sidhe who flinched a little from his desperate gaze.

"The Seelie Court made the bindings and the bargains that make the tithe...necessary. It has always been the duty of the Un-Seelie Court to _find_ the tithe. Easier, in times past. Not so easy now." Jack muttered something to the pooka who bared his teeth at him but stood up, sullen, and threaded out through them, retrieving Jack's ratty backpack.

"They are getting jaded. They are getting _bored_. And they want something new. Something _different_." Scavenger let the pack down into Jack's hands and retreated back to the fire. Jack opened it, rummaging for a moment and coming up with a bottle - not the drink he'd shared with Xander and Spike and Oz so long ago, but a tall, dusty-looking bottle with what looked like Gaelic writing on the label.

"Demon-kind rarely has any truck with us, and vampires almost never." Jack pulled the cork and took a long drink and sighed. "They heard about you, Spike. A souled vampire isn't as rare as you might think, but one that voluntarily takes a human - _stays with_ a human...one that has such different and...varied experiences.... That was intriguing to them. And you are a position to be...persuaded."

"Not bloody likely," Spike snapped, and Jack held up his hand.

"If the amulet is not carried by the champion - _'stronger than any human, souled where soul should not be, willing and consenting'_.... Then the amulet won't _work_. And the First will win, and there will be an age or so...several hundred, in fact - where the First and its ilk rule. And for them to rule _this_ place - this crossroads...would be very, very bad. We might not ever be able to dislodge the First from this place, once it gets a taste of the power that is here." Jack took another drink, and Xander slowly sat up, Spike's hand slipping down his back. He felt as if his lungs were being compressed by the weight of Jack's stare, and he had to work lips and tongue for a moment before he could speak.

"You can't prove any of this. You can c-come in here and say wh-whatever you want and you can't _prove_ it -"

"I can though, Xander. You know I can." Jack's eyes were black, lightless holes in his head, and Xander felt dizzy - felt as if he were falling. He watched in a kind of numb revulsion as Jack pressed his too-long thumb-nail into his wrist and gashed it open, the blood welling out thick and deeply red. Buffy and Tara both made some noise of protest and _Angel_ was suddenly crouching right in front of Jack, game-faced and snarling, his hands shaking.

"If I don't carry the amulet...if I give it up, and fight and win this _other_ battle, you're saying Cordelia will still be - cured, and I'll - I'll -"

"And _Shanshu_ will be yours. Yes. Taste, Angelus. Taste and know the truth." Jack's aspect was shifting to his other self - not the homeless man but the fey creature dressed in leaves and tag-ends of velvet, and Angel stared at him for one long moment and then yanked Jack's forearm up to his mouth and drank.

_*He can't be telling the truth, he can't, he can't….*_ Xander was shivering and Spike wrapped his arms around him, cheek pressed to cheek, the rusty purr breaking into a growl and then softening again as the vampire tried to comfort him.

_*I'll know, I'll taste it, love - I'll know, he can't lie with his blood, love, no one can -*_

"Oh _God!_ " Angel had pulled sharply away from Jack and now he shot to his feet, pacing off a couple of steps and then spinning back around, his eyes wild and his fangs stained with blood. "It's _true?_ How can you _know?_ " Angel stared at Jack and then shook his head, throwing off the demon's face like water. "It doesn't matter. You can't - can't force Spike to do this. Fuck your tithe - fuck _hell_. Let the Seelie Court send the tithe!"

Shocked silence, and Jack's eyes wide and a little scared, and Spike was incredulous - fiercely joyous at this sudden and unexpected support. _*The old sod's got a pair of bollocks after all! Never thought I'd see the day -*_

_*Can they do that? Why **not** send one of their own? Ask him, Xander -*_ Oz's voice in the link was hopeful, and Xander took a deep breath.

" _Can_ you send one of you own, Jack?"

"It's what _She_ wants," Scavenger muttered, and Jack's head whipped around; his mouth hissed something and for a moment his features were even more alien - even darker. Scavenger hissed back, flinching a little. Jack's patchwork-self came back a moment later and he ran his fingers back through his hair - fingered the cork of the bottle but didn't take another sip.

"Who is 'she'?" Tara asked, and Buffy murmured a quiet 'yeah'. 

"The Queen of Air and Darkness, isn't She?" Ethan murmured, and Scavenger smiled. A grin of pure malice and unholy glee.

"That is She, and She is That. And She says - send one of the lordlings, send one of the maids. Send Her Most Royal self, and have done with this nonsense of tithes."

"That they _cannot_."

" _Why_ not?" Giles snapped, and Jack made a frustrated gesture.

"If a member of the Seelie Court were to become the tithe - they could never be released. They would belong to that hell for all time. The Queen will not. She _cannot_. To let one of the Court into _their_ hands would give them too much power. You _know_ this, pooka!"

"And you give the Seelie Court too much credit. Still wanting back into the fold, after all this time? Even Lucifiel made Hell his home, eventually."

"You _know_ what it would do to all of us, to have the Court so weakened," Jack hissed, and Scavenger turned that mad, feral grin on _him_ , his eyes glowing as red as fire.

"Yes - weak enough for She to reign, and take what is Her due."

" _Enough_ of this fuckin' shite! Give me your arm, Sidhe," Spike growled, pouncing forward and snatching Jack's forearm to his mouth. He sank fangs into the dark flesh and Jack flinched and then bowed his head, shuddering. Spike _drank_ , and the _otherness_ of it flooded out through the link. It was as if Spike was drinking fire and ice and honey-pepper-chocolate - was drinking sunlight and moonbeams and _life_ , and a keen of pure pleasure rose up from the vampire's throat.

_*God, that's - that's incredible, that's -*_ The wolves were shivering under the assault, _*want*_ and _*run*_ and _*hunt*_ and _*mine*_ all muddled in the link. Xander wanted to yank Spike away and just _go_. Just run, back to the mountain and back to _that_ \- never live in the human world again. He got up on one knee, reaching for Spike, barely seeing Buffy doing the same, or Angel's concerned face. It was _Scavenger_ who broke them apart - who made a growling noise in his throat and wrenched Jack's arm free, pulling him away, arm around his shoulders. Spike shuddered visibly and lifted his head - roared aloud. And Xander wrapped his arms around him and held him, _hard_ , and let the tears come because:

_*Truth, it's the truth, it's all the truth, love, oh God, all the bloody truth, every word, every word….*_

 

"Go through it again," Angel said, and there was a slight groan from Buffy and Ethan. Oz and Derio were curled together under the throw, both dressed again but feeling the need for contact and warmth. Tara leaned against them, heavy-eyed with fatigue. Giles was pacing, avoiding Angel who was doing the same, and Xander was sitting pressed up against Tara's legs, watching Spike. Spike stood with his forearm on the mantle of the fireplace, his head resting against it, smoking slowly. Xander kept getting up and going to him - holding him - and then going back to the wolves and Tara, needing them all, hating the fear and the exhaustion and the growing dread - growing _acceptance_ he was feeling from Spike.

_*Not giving you up, love, I'm not, I won't.*_

_*Won't let you die, Xander. Got to be something....*_

Jack took another drink from the bottle he had - it didn't seem to ever run dry, and he didn't seem to get drunk. He was standing near the front windows, watching the sun come up; watching the pearl-grey of the early morning fog slowly flush lemon and tangerine, saffron and rose. "They have told us, if we can persuade Spike to be the tithe, that we need not give a tithe again for seven times seventy years. This is...unprecedented. And may never happen again. It would give us time to - try and free ourselves of this bargain."

"But Spike would be _gone_. He would be...gone."

"Yes," Jack said, turning back to the room and walking over to Xander - crouching down and gazing at him. One long and long-fingered hand reached up to gently, delicately tough the empty socket. Xander had taken of the patch over an hour ago, irritated beyond words by the chafing strap. He didn't flinch from Jack's touch, but Spike turned his head, demon-faced, and snarled at Jack's presumption. Jack slowly pulled his hand back.

"Yes, he would be gone. But only for one year, Xander. A year and a day of your life, and then he would be back with you, the same as when he left. That's not such a hard thing to do, is it? One year."

"But it's _seven_ years for Spike! Seven years as a - a _slave_ to them!"

"Not a slave -" Jack started to say, but Angel interrupted him with a growl.

"As close to as makes no difference. Damnit, there has to be _something_ -"

"No, there isn't." Spike had stood away from the fireplace and now he turned and surveyed the room - looked slowly from Angel to Buffy to Giles - to Ethan, who was drinking the dregs of a third pot of tea. To the wolves, who were tense under his gaze, and Tara, who had shed her sleepiness in a blink and was now sitting up on the couch, hands twisting in her lap. Jack stood up and moved aside, leaning against the wall by Scavenger as Spike walked to Xander and held out his hand. Xander stared at it - at _him_ \- for a long moment. At the trembling that shook the long, white fingers and the wide, frightened eyes. Spike had shut the link down hard and Xander put his hand in Spike's and let himself be pulled to his feet.

"Spike, _no!_ There's some other way, there's something we can find, or - or do -"

"Shhhhhh...." Spike pulled Xander in close, arms wrapping around, his forehead leaning gently on Xander's. "Hush, love. There's nothing else. Nothing at all. I have to do this, Xander. I have to do this."

" _No you don't!_ " Xander wanted to scream it, but his voice wouldn't work - his throat was too tight, too dry, too sore from hours of talking and yelling and fighting back hysterical sobs.

"Yes I do. I _do_. I'm the only one that can. Should never have stayed here, love - should never have let you come back - let you get hurt -"

"Spike -"

"Shhh, shhh, shhh.... I _failed_ you, Xander...failed you so many times, God - failed you so _badly_ -" The link cracked open, sending images one after the other: Xander getting hurt by Glory's minions - by Warren and by the First - by _Caleb_. His pain when Spike and Willow couldn't get along, and the wedge it drove between them. The men he'd killed in Oxnard, the soldiers of the Initiative and the soldier in Barstow. So much grief, with those images - so much regret.

_*Never wanted to hurt you, love, never wanted to make you sorry -*_

_*I'm **not**! I'm not sorry, never sorry, Spike! You can't do this because of...those things are done and **over** and they don't matter anymore -*_

Spike leaned back with a jerk, his face set and furious but _*fear fear fear*_ in the link. "Don't _matter?_ This will _always_ matter, Xander!" A feathering of a trembling hand over Xander's empty socket. " _I failed you._ You're _mine_ , the one I chose and claimed and...I was supposed to protect you no matter _what!_ Was supposed to put you first, love, and I _didn't_ , I put revenge first, I -" Spike's voice choked off and Xander clutched at him frantically, pulling his head in close so he could kiss him, kiss him, all the fear and desperation and horror he felt twisting in him like barbed snakes.

_*No, no, **no**. You didn't fail, you didn't let me down, you did everything **right** , you saved my fucking **life** and you gave me - you gave me -*_ Images again, _emotions_ , from Xander this time. Flooding through the link, catching Oz and Derio up in them as well as _Tara_ , because she could see the colors of their emotion sparking through the ether and it made her own tenuous place in the link that much stronger. Images of the two of them: laughing, patrolling, defending each other. Finding Oz, and gathering in Derio, and becoming a family.

_*Together, together, family, **God** Spike, look what you gave me, love, look what you did for me, to me, with me -*_ Tangled in bed, lying comfortably in front of the TV, up on the roof of the Magic Box and every touch, every kiss - the _claim_ , the link, the postcards that were stuck in the mirror upstairs.

"You gave me _everything_ , Spike! Gave me yourself, gave me your memories and your life and your secrets and your _promises._ You promised you'd never leave me, Spike! You promised, you _promised me_ , Spike, you _promised_ , please, please, please -"

_*Don't leave me, don't leave me, Spike -*_ Xander couldn't control it anymore, and he sagged slowly to his knees, bringing Spike with him, crying as he had as a child - hard, _hurting_ sobs that made the socket of his lost eye throb and flare - that made him choke and cough and retch, shaking like a leaf in Spike's arms. Oz and Derio slipped down and crowded close, holding them both, drowning out Xander's pleas and Spike's guilt with whatever love, whatever comfort they could, the link a raw wound that bled sorrow all through them.

"I have to, I have to," Spike whispered - thought - crying himself now, snarling and choking with a grief he didn't know how to contain. "You'll _die_ , love - the family will die! I can't do that, I can't let that happen, not if - not if there's some way to stop it! Xander, I have to _stop it_ , because he's telling the truth, love, he's telling the truth...."

Spike couldn't talk anymore - Xander couldn't - and the wolves simply held on - did what they could. Tara took Oz's outstretched hand and joined them. Knotted together in sorrow and pain, in horror and denial and budding resignation. Pain like the ending of the world, and Xander held onto Spike tight enough to bruise.

_*Oh love, hold fast, hold fast, hold fast. Don't let go, Spike, don't let go, never let go….*_


	29. Descent

_*Three days, he said three days, how can it be three days? Don't waste it, don't waste it....*_ Xander was trying not to sleep - was contemplating if maybe a wet finger-tip full of that grey-white powder, still hidden in the attic, would _keep_ him awake. He'd never done a drug like that but fuck it, if it would _work_ -

"No, love, put you right out," Spike said softly, and his hand swept up and back, up and back, slow caress that had gone on for ever and Xander wondered if maybe Spike could wear his skin away in three days. Jack and Angel both gone three _hours_ and the Potentials all tiptoeing around; being told, being told to shut _up_ , and get on with their day.

_*Get on with it, just get through it....*_ But Xander kept _remembering_ , and it fucking hurt.

 

_"It is Yule in three days - Solstice. The longest night. That is when the tithe is given - that is when you must go down into the Hellmouth itself and defeat the First and its army. At dawn of the longest night, you must be there, and the first rays of the new sun will be your weapon." Jack sounds eerily like Giles, standing beside the fireplace and lecturing them and Xander felt hysterical laughter bubbling up - threatening to spill over and if it did, oh God, if it **did** , he might be screaming instead of laughing - might **already** be screaming._

_Spike's arms come around him; bands of iron and the scent of cloves and spice and lemon. Comforting even as they tremble around him because that same hysteria is in Spike - that same impulse to just **run** , run, run, and never come back. Oz there, wolf-chant his anchor as he struggles for his own control, hand in the small of Xander's back. Derio running the beads around his neck through his fingers like a rosary and clutching Spike's hand so hard it actually **hurt** , unable to get a single word past clenched teeth._

_"Three days?" Tara whispers, and her voice is thick and throaty and oddly beautiful, rough with tears. Giles and Ethan are arguing something in the corner, faces hard and tense but Ethan's hand on Giles' forearm, Giles' foot nudging into Ethan's. Buffy is standing with Angel, both of them looking lost, both of them looking...like just people, tired and sad, and Xander feels a moment's affection for Angel, for him finally being on Spike's side. But...three days, three days, three days swamps it and he just can't shake that loop in his head._

 

"Love, please don't, please don't...." Spike pushed himself up on one elbow and got Xander on his back, looking into that so-sad gaze, that scarred and beautiful face. _*My scar. I should carry that scar and **every** scar....*_

"No, Spike. No. _My_ scars. Don't - don't do that. You've got enough of your own."

"Don't have _any_ scars, pet, but the one _she_ gave me," Spike said, fleeting image of the Chinese Slayer and her sword, arcing through the air. Xander reached up and touched it - traced his eyebrow and then his cheekbone - down to his jaw and the edge of his bottom lip.

"You've got scars, Spike. On your heart...on your soul...I can _see_ them, feel them. I'd take them for you." Xander tipped his chin up and Spike dipped down, slow, slow kiss. 

_*What fools we are, love...wanting to be hurt for the other….*_

_*What love is, vampire-mine. What it's always been.*_

_*I don't want you to hurt, love -*_

"Then _stay_ , please stay, please...." Xander's voice caught and shattered and Spike pulled him close again, every inch touching that could, Xander's mouth under his warm and salt-sticky with tears.

_*Oh God I want to, I want to, love, but you felt it, you know...same as I do, same as the wolves do. Fuck, even the Irish bastard knows, this time.*_ Spike felt Xander's heart beating against his own chest - felt the pulse of it as if it were his own. Felt the anger that threatened to spiral out of control from moment to moment because Xander _did_ know, he did know, but he was going to fight it with every breath and every drop of blood in him.

_*Love me, Spike, just love me, hold me, don't let go, don't let go -*_

 

"We should go hunt," Xander said, sometime in the first night, when the house was finally quiet again. The Potentials had woken none the wiser from their charmed sleep but Faith, apparently, had crouched at the top of the stairs and heard it all - who knew Sidhe magic didn't work on Slayers? - and now she was sparring with Buffy, looking like she wanted to kill something. Looking like Xander felt, and the demon surged up in Spike, wanting that.

They'd hidden out in the bedroom all day, locked together and trying to come to some peace. Now there _was_ one, a fragile sort of hold that Spike was doing his best to maintain and that Xander wanted to smash into a thousand pieces. He didn't _want_ to accept, but everyone was fraying apart under the stress and he was keeping himself calm with only a monumental effort of will. A hunt was just what he needed - what _they_ needed.

Giles and Ethan were in the kitchen; late night pot of tea, phone calls to the various Pembrokes and a pregnancy update from Anya, who was practically a walking encyclopedia of baby 'facts'. Tara and Dawn were in the garden, because Dawn had taken the news hard and had a sort of tantrum and now, ashamed, she was trying to do one of Tara's grounding routines. Trying to act the adult she insisted she _was_. Her hurt had been like a knife, in the link.

"Yeah, hunt. Kick some ass," Faith said, getting up off her own from a solidly-delivered roundhouse kick and shooting a glare at Buffy.

"You two think you can keep up with us?" Spike said, flash of fangs. Oz and Derio were coming in from the library, shedding shoes and shirts, eyes already flashing black.

_*Hunt, run, hunt, us, our, family pack pack pack,*_ the need and the savage urge like a bolt of blood and fire through all of them.

"Just you wait and see," Buffy said, tremulous smile, and it was a moment's thought in the link and then a stop and turn and _run_. It took Buffy and Faith five blocks to catch up. Oz and Derio had settled into that half-stage between man and wolf, loping in an easy and ground-consuming stride. Xander felt the same rhythm settle into his bones, and he let the hyena up and out, catching lime and sweat and patchouli, _White Diamonds_ and leather smell from the Slayers. The more familiar musk of the wolves was there, and the spice and blood of the demon.

The city itself smelled _different_. So many Sunnydale residents were gone - and so many demons had moved in - that the smell of magic and otherness was always in the air. They roamed over the old places - over the cemeteries familiar from years of patrol, the streets from childhood. They investigated Spike's crypt, which was empty for once, and trotted past the house on Revello, which was dark and abandoned, a forlorn 'For Sale' sign in the yard like so many other houses. Xander's old house was dark, too, and he felt a momentary pang. His parents were gone - for good and all - but _*pack pack love you,*_ and _*family, Xander, always *_ chased away any longing he might feel. He hadn't spoken to them since he'd moved out.

_*And found you, love. Found my one and always.*_

_*Sheer bloody luck, eh pet? My own….*_

 

The Alibi bar was the same, and a group of six or seven vamps were loitering outside, laughing and talking. Posturing. The link bristled with challenge - the pack regarded the whole city as their own, anymore - and they plunged into the group, ringing howls of challenge and excitement echoing off the walls. Of course they drew attention, and a dozen or more demons joined the vamps before the fight was over.

Buffy panted, leaning against a wall, and Faith was bent over, hands on thighs. "Damn, you boys play rough," she said, grinning up through strands of sweaty hair, and Spike tapped two cigarettes out of his pack and lit them - handed one to Faith with a flourish.

"Rough as you like, pet," he purred, and Faith laughed.

"I'll bet," she said, going to lean by Buffy, drawing in smoke with a pleased little smile. 

Buffy waved a hand in front of her face but didn't move. "You guys are like - like watching something on the Discovery Channel. Just - scary."

"We're a Discovery Channel Special," Oz said, and they all laughed. But the moment was broken, and the restlessness was still in them - was still stirring their blood.

_*Need to go, need to run, pack, family, run.*_ Derio and Xander both, and Oz yipped in quiet agreement. "We'll go it alone from here, ladies," Spike said, flicking his butt away and vamping, scenting the night air.

"Be safe," Buffy said quietly, and Xander nodded. He turned his back and pulled the patch off - stuffed it in his pocket. He didn't want that there. Just wanted to be _himself_ , nothing hidden, nothing held back. Spike's hand reached out and fleetingly touched his cheek on the bad side, and then they were running again, harder than before. Running like they had on the mountain - running as a _pack_ , with the wolves shifted all the way and Spike letting the demon have full rein.

They ran through Breakers Woods and along the river - ran up to Kingman's Bluff and then to the beach, loping through the waves. They followed the coast up to their old house - abandoned now, like so many others - and went inside. Sand gritted under foot, and a window was broken, but upstairs was the bedstead and old mattress that they'd left behind as too worn out and they lay down on it. Tangle of limbs and hands and mouths; mapping known flesh and discovering new. The link open wide and wider until there was no distinguishing one from the other and all sensation was shared sensation, and sliding into this body was sliding into _all_ of them.

Surrounded by the scents of the sea and the sand, the eucalyptus tree by the back door and old candle wax. Surrounded by their own scents; old and faded but still _there_ , and this was _home_ , this was discovery, this was the blood and tears spilled that had started everything - the claiming that had gathered in Oz and the long days and nights that had made Derio a part of them, as well.

Xander had Spike's hand in his, clenched tight, palm to palm. Had Oz's mouth under his and Derio's knee in his thigh - heaving press of ribs to his arm and it was _good_ , it was right and it was all he wanted, forever.

_*I'd make a wish right now, if I thought anyone was listening.*_

_*So would I, love,*_ Spike thought, his fingers clutching hard. _*Hold fast, Xander...hold fast….*_

 

The second day was as strange as the first - as unsettling - and Xander felt dizzy from lack of sleep, but he didn't care. Spike had hunted on the way home, glutting himself so he could share sips of blood with Xander - help him stay awake. Every time the sizzling draught of blood filled his mouth it was like the first time - breath-taking and heart-pounding, and Xander felt fear wash over him, again and again.

_*Jack said they had magic - Jack said...us being apart...it'd be okay even with the claim but… **how**? Seven fucking years, Spike, seven years, what if you're sick? What if -*_

_*No, love. He said he could, he told the truth. Promised we'd be all right and he has to keep that promise, doesn't he? They've got magic that...that's nothing like we know. You'll be all right, pet.*_

_*Not me I'm worried about and you **know** it. Fuck, fuck, hate this, I hate this so much.*_ Spike just held him, kissed him - made him eat the sandwich Dawn had constructed and delivered, teary-eyed but calm. Oz and Derio wandered in, joining them on the bed, touching where they could and just sinking into the link; sharing memories and stories, sharing their past since the link and sharing the parts that had been separate. Scenes of Derio's life in Puerto Rico before his family had moved to California; Oz's trip to Tibet and Spike's first glimpse of New York from the bow of a ship, Dru on his arm and whole of the New World like a giant toy-box open before him. Xander's memories were bitter-sweet, tinged with fading grief for Jesse and still-hurtful glimpses of the old Willow from childhood. But it was good, to do that - to revisit fond memories and to learn new ones. It was calming and comforting and it soothed hearts seemingly too broken to carry on.

They went downstairs later for more food and to find Tara and Dawn and came in on an excited discussion. All the Potentials were in the living-room, crowding around the scythe Buffy had taken from Caleb. Faith and Buffy were sitting on the couch nearest the fireplace looking amused and a little troubled and Tara and Giles and Ethan were scribbling notes and talking in urgent voices. Dawn and Johnathan were half-heartedly sparring in the foyer, swinging blunt practice swords. The four of them wandered over, settling on the floor, Spike nearest the fire that someone was always stoking.

"What's the up, Buff?" Xander said, raising a small smile and Buffy grinned back.

"Oh, Willow called! She and Giles have been keeping in touch and he told her about the scythe-thing and she had this idea, it's really neat. Tara's going to do this spell, it's going to take the Slayer power and give it to all the Potentials!"

"Wow - all? So there'll be - eighteen new Slayers? At the same time?"

"Yeah. Boggles the mind, doesn't it?" Faith lit a cigarette - offered one to Spike, who took it with a smirk.

"Sounds like a nightmare, if you ask me."

"Nobody did," Buffy snarked, flash of her old fire and Spike blew smoke at her, grinning.

"Willow had it made up originally to - uh - 'wake up' all the Potentials all over the world, but Tara thought that might not be a good idea." Dawn bounced over and snuggled down between Spike and Oz, leaning into the vampire and smiling when he put his arm around her. "Oh, and Willow says hello and she misses everybody," Dawn added. _*Happy family happy,*_ from her, heartbreaking and pure. Spike huffed smoke above her head, his opinion of Willow clear in the link. Xander just poked him a little, resigned to it now, and a little sad that his own reaction was less then enthusiastic.

"She's going to do the spell tomorrow before - before the fight," Buffy said, losing a little of her enthusiasm, and Xander sighed, his own mood - so briefly lightened - plummeting as well.

"Yeah. I'm - gonna get something to eat," he said abruptly, pushing himself up and walking fast to the kitchen. Trying to get there before he lost control. _*Hate this, **hate this**. Can't be real, God, please, make it not **real**....*_ Xander leaned into the wall, forehead on his arm, struggling with the link and his own emotions. Trying to be calm for the rest, trying to be halfway sane. He'd asked Jack, before he left, if he could go as well - be part of the tithe, be with Spike. Jack had reached out to him, squeezing his shoulder gently with his long fingers.

"I'm sorry, Xander. You would die there. You cannot." Xander was willing to test that - willing to pit himself against any hell and any devils who reigned there. But - _*My death is his death and what if I **did** die? Couldn't do that to him, couldn't...God...doesn't feel like I can live anyway - God, God, can't be real, this is just a -*_

_*Nightmare, love,*_ and Spike was slipping his arms around him - turning him and holding him so gently - kissing him with the lightest of touches and Xander shivered, holding Spike hard.

_*Fucking nightmare...make me real, Spike, please? Make me real...make me real like you did before, make me real with your mouth and your cock and your love and your soul, Spike, please, see me and make me real and wake me up….*_

"C'mon, Xander, come upstairs," Spike whispered, and they crossed the too-quiet living room and climbed the stairs, comfort in the link and then quiet as the wolves gave them what privacy they could.

 

_*You are, you are, you are...my own, my love, mine, mine, mine...always, love, always...hearthfire and builder and the one that **sees** , love...brother and lover and artist...laughter and all things good, all things good…. I see you, love, I see your soul, I see my knight in patchwork armor and love, love, we will survive this, we will survive this and then we will have the long ages of the earth, my love, my own, we will have all of time...forever and a day, my love, my Xander, Alexander, protector, strong right arm, saved me, saved me, love me...mine, always, forever, mine, mine, mine....*_

Spike thought that Xander would shatter beneath him, he was trembling so hard. Fingers and hands and arms and legs wrapped around him tight enough to make him glad he didn't need to draw breath. Mouth on his - on his face, on his throat over the scar and Spike moaned and bore down, pressing harder into Xander's body - pressing deeper and moving slower, slower.

_*Draw it out, make it last, make it last forever….*_

"Spike, Spike...." _*God, love you, **love** you, want you so much ,wanted you so much, so fuckin' beautiful, Spike, so beautiful, so perfect...you make me safe, you make me happy, God, so happy...never let you go, never leave you, always mine, always, vampire-mine, poet and hero and my best friend and my true love and my...my...mine...you give me, love, everything...everything….*_

" _Taisbean_ ," Xander whispered, and the link flooded with the image; with Spike's soul glowing as white as a star and the demon a pure, clear tongue of golden flame. The gold and red and black sparks shivered, shimmered - whirled around Spike in a frenetic dance. The demon was folded tightly around the soul, and the soul...the face of William Sinclair...was like the face of a saint - of a god. Agony and ecstasy and sorrow...too much to bear and Xander was crying under him. Silent, shuddering sobs and Spike stopped moving, stopped thinking - just looked down at him and Xander pulled him closer - tried to.

"Please, Spike d-don't stop, don't...please just...it's okay, it's okay, please -" _*Please...have to see you, have to remember...remember...remember...God, how can I live, how can I do this without you, Spike, Spike, you're the only thing...only thing….*_

_*No, love. You're stronger than that - you're so fuckin' **brave** , love, so brave -*_ Spike slowly, slowly moved again, sinking into the heat and lush, silken grip of Xander's body - tasting his flesh and his tears and his mouth - tasting his blood in tiny sips from the scar. Xander's voice, whispering in his ear, making him shiver.

"You...are inside me...in me...my heart, my...soul...every day...waiting for you...wanting you...never let you go again, Spike, never, not for anything. Fuckin' world can go to hell next time - go to hell _this_ time, God, Spike...." Xander sank his teeth into Spike's neck, gasping out a wordless cry of pleasure as his body clenched tight around him.

_*Ohh...love you, love you, love you....*_ Spike shivered into his own orgasm, biting deeper than before - re-claiming what was his, and the link flared, almost too much in that shared, looping feedback of sensation and emotion. They were both gasping - shaking - crying, now, and Spike just held on tight, face buried in the warm and sweet-musk-salt of Xander's neck. "Love you," he whispered, and Xander just clung to him, _*hold fast, hold fast, hold fast....*_

 

Hours later they went downstairs again, unable to bear being alone - wanting the wolves and Dawn and Tara. Wanting family for as long as they could and feeling the sadness in the link - desperate to do something, .anything, to ease it. Giles and Ethan were preparing the last few things needed for the Slayer-spell, and Tara was sitting in the plum-dark twilight of the garden, just breathing - preparing herself. Oz and Derio had gotten a fire going in the cistern and she was lit by the glow - soft, ruddy light making her hair spun gold and her tired, unhappy face almost serene.

Spike stood in the doorway for a long moment before going quietly out to her and settling at her feet - leaning against her knees and closing his eyes. After a moment her hand came down and slowly, slowly, stroked his hair. Hesitantly at first, Tara spoke to him - told him a story about Tam-Lin, and the Faery Queen. And how Fair Jenet rescued her love from the jealous Mab. Soft voice and soft touch and a story spun out of firelight and darkness and Spike buried his face in her lap and cried, because it was like his mother, it was like Dru, it was like late nights with Xander, telling him stories of Shakespeare and Angelus, both full of comedy and tragedy and blood.

_*Brother, sweet, sorrow, love you love you,*_ from her - overwhelming anger and despair and Spike shivered in the aftermath - lifted his head and looked at her, and the wet tracks that crossed her cheeks. 

"Don't let him be alone. Tara - please don't let him be alone."

"I promise I won't," she whispered, her thumb gently wiping his face, her mouth quivering and smiling and trying to be brave.

"Knew I could count on you, Glinda." Spike closed his eyes, and let her go back to her slow petting, and after a while Xander came out and settled with him, wrapping him in warmth and the sweet scent of clean wood and rosemary. Slowly, the rest of pack joined them and they sat in silence for almost an hour, just leaning together - listening to the link. The moon - waning crescent - finally cleared the trees and shone down into the garden and then the rest of the house came out, Buffy carrying the scythe.

"Tara - it's time," Giles said softly, and she stirred and nodded - bent down and kissed Spike's cheek. Her hair fell around them, a tent of saffron and bronze, and her scent of rue and thyme, wormwood and sweet bay.

"I love you, Spike. Love you," she whispered and he clutched her hands fiercely in his for one long moment, and then let her go.

"Love you too, witchling," he murmured after her, and she smiled at him.

 

The scythe lay on the ground and the Potentials gathered in a compact arc around it, each touching it with a fingertip. Tara sat cross-legged on the opposite side, and Buffy and Faith knelt at either shoulder. Tara's voice was whisper-soft as she began the spell and it rose slowly, gradually building until her final words rang across the garden, sharp and strident with command. The scythe was glowing brighter and brighter with each word, and as Tara intoned the final syllables it flashed sun-bright, a shock-wave of light and magic like the leading edge of an explosion. The Potentials cried out, rocked backwards - some sprawling onto the ground. Buffy and Faith were both pushed away and Tara - _glowed_. For one moment it was as if her bones were alight, and the light from within lit her to a dazzling brilliance. Then it was gone as abruptly as it had come and she slumped a little, panting - grinning.

"That was - _amazing_ ," she murmured, and Buffy struggled up to her knees, one hand on Tara's shoulder.

"Are you all right? Did it work?"

"It did somethin'," Faith said, shaking her head. Kennedy was staggering to her feet - flexing her hands - and she took a deep breath and whooped.

"Oh _yeah_ it worked! Oh - my - God! Spike! Hit me!"

"With pleasure," Spike drawled, stepping forward and a moment later Kennedy was sprawling in the leaves.

"That - almost didn't hurt! That was _awesome!_ Do it again!" She bounced to her feet, grinning, and behind her the other Potentials were grinning - bouncing as well. They looked - different. More confident. And the Slayer-vibe was near overwhelming. Tara was laughing softly.

"You okay, Tara?" Oz asked, skirting the Potentials to get closer to her, holding out a hand. She took it and was pulled to her feet, swaying just a little.

"Oh, I'm - that was a _rush_. Wow." She took a deep breath, shaking her hands out, and Spike could have sworn he saw little sparks of residual energy spattering from her fingertips like water drops.

"C'mon! I wanna test this!" Kennedy was dancing around Spike and Xander, fists up and a look of manic glee on her face.

"No time for that, now," said a quiet voice, and Spike jerked around, growling.

" _Scavenger_. What are you doing here?" Everyone turned towards the pooka, who leaned casually in the doorway, ragged jeans and an old dress-shirt open over his bare chest.

"Came to tell you some things Jack didn't. Some things about tomorrow." There was a muttering of confused, angry voices, and Spike strode towards the pooka - got up close, letting the demon out.

"What _things?_ " He could feel Xander at his back - the wolves to either side - and the Slayer-vibe like the whine of an industrial turbine, shivering through his bones. _*Hope*_ in the link from all of them, because he might tell them...something _else_.

"Like the Hellmouth being destroyed means - so will the town. You must all be ready to leave when the amulet does its magic. There will be - nothing left." Scavenger looked pleased at this, and Spike _felt_ pleased - was, in fact, manically pleased at the idea of this mis-begotten town becoming - nothing.

"You mean - the whole town?" Buffy asked, and Scavenger grinned at her.

"The whole town and then some. Better run far, run fast."

"We need - cars. Or trucks - something...." Johnathan mumbled, and Giles stepped up as well, frowning.

"Yes, we do - vehicles big enough for everyone and...clothes...supplies...girls! Girls, listen -" Giles issued swift commands to go upstairs and pack - everything they wanted to bring with them, one bag each. The Potentials - still high from their empowering - darted past the pooka and the knot the family made and raced upstairs, bouncing and chattering, leaping four steps at a time, laughing aloud.

"Damn. They're on magic crack. I'm gonna go supervise. And I won't have to pull my punches anymore," Faith said. She sauntered after them, and Spike pulled out a cigarette, watching Scavenger.

"Why didn't _Jack_ tell us that?"

"Oh, Jack." Scavenger laughed. "He's too busy anticipating the Seelie Court taking him back. He cares little for what becomes of the demon killers."

"Does he care what becomes of the demons?" Xander grated, his anger flaring in the link, and Scavenger laughed again.

"He only cares about one demon, Al-ex-an-der. That's why I'm here. I'll get you down there, and see that you get out safe."

"I don't need protection -" Xander snapped, and Spike put his hand out, touching his arm.

"Love - you don't. But you'll go with him, and you'll let him help, yeah? You have to be here when...when I'm through, Xander." Ripple of negation - of anger - at that thought, and the too-familiar rush of sorrow. Xander glared at Scavenger for a moment and then deflated, slumping dejectedly against Spike, slipping an arm around his waist.

"Of course I'll be here. I'll...let him help."

_*Thank you, love,*_ Spike thought, kissing his temple, and Xander nodded miserably, silent.

"My blood will open the seal - open the Hellmouth." Scavenger's look faded from amusement to solemnity, and his eyes sparked red, glinting madly. "The army of the First will be there, just below. You'll have to battle your way in - and stave them off until the sun clears the horizon. Only when the sun is free of the earth will the power of the amulet be free. And then...."

"And then _what_ , pooka?" Giles asked, and the pooka looked up at him, his face wiped clean of all emotion.

"And then they will burn. And then you - all of you - must run."

They were all silent after that, thinking, until Giles stirred, clearing his throat. "Buffy - I know you had plans to include Robin in this final battle. Call him, please, and tell him he needs to pack his things. And tell him to meet us here in an hour, we're going shopping."

Buffy stared at Giles, her hand held poised and motionless over her cell-phone. "It takes the end of the world for you to get on the shopping train. If I'd have known…." Giles smiled at her and she smiled back - hit the speed-dial.

"What kind of sh-shopping, Mr. Giles?" Johnathan asked quietly, and Giles turned toward him, a contemplative look on his face.

"We need...buses? Vans? I'm not sure. There are very few people here I would trust driving a vehicle of _any_ sort, and we must think of possible injuries…."

"Perhaps caravans? Is there a sales lot?" Ethan murmured, and they both went inside in search of the Yellow Pages. Johnathan hesitated and then followed, muttering to himself. 

"I've had my license for four years, _I_ can be trusted...." Buffy was across the garden, speaking softly into her phone and the pooka looked at the family, head to one side and his eyes glowing now like twin scarlet candles.

"You did a powerful magic here tonight, _chovexani_. It shook the roots of the trees."

"It did no harm. It was - consenting." Tara looked momentarily worried, and then lifted her chin, dismissing her anxiety.

"Aye, all consenting as the Sun King went, to make the fields rich with his blood. Some will die, you know."

"Some always die," Tara said softly, and put a comforting arm around Dawn, who was shivering.

"Some do, aye." Scavenger looked at Dawn for a long moment, only looking away when Derio snarled softly. "Oh, no fear, shifter. She's grown into her soul like a rose to the vine, all blown petals and thorns. She's one of you, now." There was an instant's shock and fear through the link, and then anger, and Spike stepped up closer to the pooka - close enough to be swamped in his scent of smoldering fire and earth, water and grass and old, old stone.

"Don't speak of her," Spike said, very low, and Scavenger widened his eyes at him.

"Shall I not? Well, if you say." Fast, feral grin, and a toss of his head, and Spike growled. "We've six hours, my doves. Six hours. Surely there are better things to be doing then jousting with me?"

_*Six hours, six...no....*_ and Spike turned and pulled Xander close - held him tight.

"Yeah. Lot of better things. We - Glinda, we're going to go up."

"Dawn and I have to pack," Tara said, nodding and Spike could still see the magic she'd done thrumming through her, making her voice in the link louder and clearer then ever before. _*Love you all, protect you, sorrow sorrow sorrow.*_

"How come the wards didn't do their Vesuvius act?" Derio asked, and Scavenger laughed shortly.

"I'm not Jack. He's all jackdaw vanity and self-importance. I'm...more tricksy."

"You're a guest here," Tara said sharply, and Scavenger bowed.

"'Deed I am, _chovexani_. I do remember." Tara frowned at him - put her hand out suddenly.

"Xander - do you have that little knife?"

Xander lifted his head from Spike's shoulder - blinked at her in surprise for a moment. "Uh - yeah, Tara." He bent down and pulled the leaf-shaped knife from his boot, the one Spike had convinced him to practice with and carry at all times. The one Spike had re-taught him to use after...Caleb. Hilt-less throwing knife, the tang and blade all darkened metal, the edge silver-bright and razor sharp.

Tara took it and weighed it in her hand - looked at Scavenger and they _all_ felt the thrum of her power. "Pooka - I want your oath. I want your oath that Spike...will return to us, unharmed, at the end of seven years and a day. Return to us as he left us. You know better than us what's going to happen, and we have to know."

Scavenger was scowling now, and he opened his mouth to reply but Tara held up hand - held the knife out. "Touch iron and _swear_ , Scavenger." He went very still, then reached slowly out and closed his hand around the blade of the knife. His hand was shaking - his arm - and a thin, white smoke rose up from his clenched fist.

"I swear by iron and the earth it was born from," he grated out, and he looked - different. He looked...darker, smaller, _twisted_ somehow, and Dawn stepped back, gasping sharply. Oz caught her hand and held it, and then Scavenger jerked away, flashing to the homeless man, his hand cradled against his chest. "You're tricksy too, Lady," he said, his voice shaking and his eyes flat black, and Tara handed the knife back to Xander, looking a little guilty.

"Let me see," she said, and Scavenger held out his hand. The shape of the blade was branded there; raw, bloody and burned, and the blood-scent was the sea - salt and copper and hidden, damp green. Spike wanted to taste it, and they wolves whined softly, stirred as well.

"Come on and let me...let me give you something for it. Thank you, for that," Tara added, gesturing for the pooka to walk to the kitchen, and Scavenger grinned, his eyes sparking bright again.

"As you wish, Lady. I am not...your enemy."

"No. You're not," Tara said, and they went to the kitchen, taking Dawn. Spike snagged Xander back close - held a hand out to Oz.

"Six hours, my loves. We've things to do."

 

In the end Giles and Ethan found three RV's and loaded the meager possessions of the Potentials onto two. Of the rest of them, Buffy and Dawn had the most and spent the remaining time winnowing their belongings down to the things they couldn't possibly live without - mostly pictures and a few keepsakes. Larger items - some antiques they'd inherited from their grandmother - had been shipped a month or more ago to the new Headquarters in England, mostly at Giles insistence. He'd wanted the girls to move there, after the First.

Buffy, who'd been fighting it halfheartedly, was now resigned - even a little excited, something she was feeling bad about. Xander watched the last-minute preparations - watched Oz carry the hold-all of heroin over to Ethan and murmur to him, and Ethan nod slowly and take it, heading out to the RV's with a little frown on his face. Spike knew someone in L.A. - a cousin of a cousin of Clem's, actually, who would pay top dollar for that. Xander had felt a moment's pang, but Spike had said it would mostly go to the demon world, where it was prized but not nearly as harmful as it was to humans, and Xander just...didn't care. It didn't matter, anymore. Spike was behind him, holding him close, and Oz came up on the stairs and settled with Derio one step down.

_*You promise me, wolfling - both of you,*_ Spike thought, fifth time in as many minutes, and Oz just nodded, turning and reaching up - touching Spike's arm where it curved around Xander's chest.

_*Promised you, Spike. We will,*_ Derio replied, and his fingers wandered up to the fresh bite-mark on his throat. Flash of that in the link, of Derio on his knees and Spike behind him, _in_ him, slow loving that was as precious as it was heartbreaking. Spike trying to imprint every moment - every touch. Bulwark of memory against the coming darkness and they would deny him nothing, now. Oz lying, panting, bitten as well and exhausted but doing the same - storing up each touch and look and scent. Xander had simply knelt behind Spike, as close as he could because he couldn't bear to lose the touch of skin-on-skin, no matter what.

_*Keep me warm, that will. Keep me happy,*_ Spike thought, but his arms were clenched so tight around Xander it would have hurt a normal human, and the _*fear, sorrow, sorrow*_ was never far away. Eventually, everyone was ready and the household was slowly gathered in the living room, and Spike sighed.

_*Time to go, my loves. Time to...go.*_ They stood up slowly and went down, and Spike took the amulet from where it had been laying on the mantel and put it on. It rested large and ugly and… _sinister_ to Xander; gaudy against Spike's black t-shirt.

_*Look a right git, with this on. Look like some Liz Taylor wannabe.*_ Xander smiled tiredly at that, but it hurt - felt like little hooks, yanking at his mouth, so he stopped.

"Everyone is clear on the plan, yes?" Giles said, and even though there was a soft chorus of 'yes' from the Potentials and nods from the rest, he went over it again. "Robin, Johnathan, and Tara will be driving. We will park one block from the school and all of us will walk to the campus. Scavenger has said he will be opening the seal, and the Hellmouth." Everyone looked at the pooka who was leaning casually next to the fireplace, his shirt still flapping open around him but a long and ornate silver knife now hanging in a sheath at this side. "When he does, Buffy and her group will go down with - with Spike and Xander. The rest of us will stay in the school itself, to keep any Turok-han from escaping the campus. When - when the amulet is...activated and Buffy and her group...return to us, we leave. Scavenger...will see to the rest."

_*It sounds worse every time. Spike, Spike please -*_

_*No, love. No. We can't. I love you...love you.*_

Everyone stood silently for a moment, and then Kennedy stirred and came forward slowly until she was standing in front of Spike. "Spike, I…." She closed her mouth - shook her head - reached out and touched the amulet. "Good luck, okay? Good luck."

Spike looked taken aback, but then he grinned, all fangs and glowing eyes, and Kennedy grinned back. "Remember to duck," Spike said, and Kennedy nodded and turned sharply - walked out. One by one, the rest of the Potentials did the same; touched the amulet and wished Spike good luck. The last girl, Amanda, gave him a tentative hug and fled, tears in her eyes. Johnathan touched Dawn's shoulder and smiled at her - walked over to Spike as well, and touched the gem.

"Be careful, Spike," he said, and Spike reached out and snatched him close by his shirt-front.

"I _imagine_ the Niblet'll still be a blushing virgin when I come back," he hissed, and Johnathan blanched.

"Of - of - of c-course she w-will, of _course!_ " Johnathan squeaked, and Spike gave him a shake, and let him go.

"That's what I thought." Spike patted his cheek. "You drive careful, Brainiac."

"Uh - yeah. Yeah. I - will." Johnathan smoothed his shirt and then nodded and darted out of the house.

_*Still evil,*_ Xander thought, rubbing a hand up his back, and Spike tested the tip of one fang with his tongue - let the demon-face go.

_*Always evil, love.*_ Spike looked up at where Robin was standing in the doorway. The man stared at him for a moment and then nodded once, and turned and left. _*Guess I got his seal of approval. Wanker.*_

_*We'll keep him in line,*_ Oz thought, the wolf rankled at Robin's continued hostility, the man trying to be forgiving.

Faith pushed away from her spot near the stairs and walked over slowly - reached and touched the amulet as well. "Guess you're the good guy, this time. Pretty trippy, Spike."

"From this side, too," Spike said, and Faith nodded - punched his shoulder lightly.

"Five by five, Spike," she murmured, and turned and walked out fast, nodding to Giles, who looked anxious, and Ethan. Ethan urged Giles forward, arm around his waist, and grinned at Spike, fox-face merry but his hands shaking.

"You're a creature of chaos, Spike...Janus protect you."

"Mage," Spike said, slight inclination of his head, and then a head-tilted look at Giles, who was looking at his feet. "You got something to say, Watcher?"

Giles started and blinked up at him. "I - I have...learned - so much from you. And this - " Giles made a helpless gesture towards the amulet, frowning. "This - thing, that you're doing. This act of -"

"Don't get soppy, now. Doesn't suit you."

"This _selfless_ act...humbles us all. Good luck...William."

The demon flashed out for an instant and then was gone and Spike lifted his chin. "Thank you, Rupert," he said quietly, and the two older men gathered up a last bag and walked out, holding on to each other.

"God, this _sucks._ " Dawn pulled away from Buffy and flung herself on Spike, hugging him around the neck and wrapping her long legs around his thighs, squeezing him hard. "It's like you're never coming back and you _are!_ " Her voice choked on a sob and she shuddered. "You are - you promised and I - I _hate_ feeling like this! Spike -"

Spike hugged her back, stroking her hair - taking a long, long breath and then carefully setting her down and prying her off. He wiped the tears off her cheeks and pushed her hair out of her face - picked up his duster from where she'd dropped it on the floor. "I _did_ promise, and I _am_ coming back - never lie to you, Bit. You hold on to my coat for Xander now, yeah? Get it out of this hell-hole. You know I'll be wanting that." Spike gazed at her, his hand cupping her cheek. "Counting on you, Dawn. _Family_ , yeah?"

"F-family, I know." Dawn sniffed, straightening her shoulders and hugging the bundle of leather close to her. She smiled shakily at Buffy, who came up behind her and put a hand on her shoulder.

"Go on out to the RV, okay?" Buffy said softly, and Dawn nodded.

"Yeah. Love you, Spike," Dawn said. She hesitated and then touched the amulet with a small frown. "G-good luck."

"Love you, too, Niblet. Be safe." Dawn nodded, gulping, and then turned and ran and they could all hear her crying.

"God - she's right. This sucks." Buffy wiped at her eyes - shifted the scythe to her other hand. "You...are the strangest vampire I've ever met. And...the only one I...I trust like...family. Thank you, Spike." Buffy put her hand flat on the amulet for a moment, and then let it drop.

"Watch out for my boy down there, Buffy."

"Yeah. Yeah, I will," Buffy said softly. She smiled wanly at Xander and then walked quickly out, and there was only Tara left, looking lost and lonely. She wrapped her arms around Spike and hugged him hard, shuddering, and when she pulled back Spike bent and kissed her, soft and light. Her mouth trembled under his and then she caught the back of his neck with her hand and kissed back. Pulled away, finally, and rested her forehead on his.

"Goddess go with you, Spike. Love you," she whispered, and he nodded, eyes closed, struggling for control.

"Love you, Tara." Tara kissed his cheek, fast, and then turned and ran and the house - felt utterly empty. The link was _raw_ with pain, and they all just stood there for a moment, huddled together and hurting - _hating_ the finality of it all, hating the hurt but feeling a moment's happiness for the love that Spike....

_*Deserved. Deserve it all but don't deserve **this**...Spike...Spike....*_

Scavenger startled them all when he spoke. "Time to go, my doves. You must have this." He reached into the air and pulled out a cloth-wrapped package and opened it to reveal a small, flat cake. It was honey-gold, with an uneven, dark-red stain over the middle of it. He broke it carefully, one piece larger than the other.

"That's Jack's _blood_ ," Spike said, hugging Xander to his side, and Scavenger nodded.

"Aye. It's to keep you well, when you're apart. To stop the claim from killing you. Hurry, now - dawn's coming on fast as Phoebus can whip his chariot aloft." Scavenger held the cake out and Xander stared at it - reached out finally - slowly - and took the smaller piece. Spike did the same and they lifted them to their mouths and ate. Smoke and honey and salt-iron tang - sweet and sour and then...nothing at all. Xander shuddered, feeling like he'd swallowed poison, and Scavenger tossed the cloth aside. Oz and Derio were shedding the sweats that was all they'd put on and shifting, wolf-chant and wolf-thought in the link.

_*Family. Love. Always, always...run, run, run.*_

_*Is it already dawn, Spike? Is there a poem for going away? Is there anything...?*_ Xander thought, blackness like a tide welling up in him and Spike tipped his head back and _roared_ \- grief and love and hate and sorrow - fear all surging through him and all of them.

_*There's only fare-thee-well, my love,*_ Spike thought, and unbidden, words came to him - words that Xander caught out of memory and said softly with him. _"Look, love, what envious streaks do lace the severing clouds in yonder east. Night's candles are burn out, and jocund day stands tiptoe on the misty mountain tops. I must be gone and live, or stay and die…."_

"It's now, love - it's now...." Spike whispered, his voice cracking and his hand like a vise around Xander's and they ran - up and out and into the palely grey-green morning, the wolves coursing silently beside them. There was a _humph_ of breath and the pooka was there, running with them, his hooves striking the road in a shower of sparks, his head lifting to trumpet a ringing challenge to the deserted city. The RV's had gone on ahead and they ran to the sound of their own heart-beats and the drum of the pooka's hooves - to the wolf-chant and the dawn-chorus that sounded out from every bush and tree. It felt like the last morning of the world, and Xander ran blinded by tears, his only anchor Spike's hand his voice in the link.

_*Love you, now and always, love you, love you, love you….*_

 

The school looked - wrong. It looked as if it were warping down in on itself and the energy of the Hellmouth was screaming into the air, invisible poison that made them all cringe. The Potentials and the Slayers - everyone - was waiting as they arrived and Scavenger shifted blindingly fast, naked man in moments and his eyes gleaming blood-red.

"No time for anything but to go, now," he panted, and Spike turned to where Derio and Oz were shifting as well - grabbed Oz and pulled him close and kissed him, hard and deep.

_*Wolf, wolfling, God - please keep him safe - keep yourself safe - need you, need you -*_

_*Promise, Spike, I will - I will -*_

"Oz - love you, Oz, love you -" Spike didn't let him go - pulled Derio to him and kissed him as well and Derio was shuddering - crying. _*Love you, fiddler, oh **God** \- be safe, be **here** , please - please -*_

_*Know I will. Don't take it off, Spike - don't **ever** *_

"Won't, won't - _love_ you, Derio -" Spike hugged them fiercely, his face sheened with tears and then he turned and grabbed Xander's hand and they ran again, Scavenger behind them and Buffy and her group of twelve Potentials. The wolves howled - desperate longing - and the demon roared reply - the _hyena_ did, and then they only ran.

The seal had been uncovered again and Scavenger snatched the silver dagger out of nothingness and sliced across his palm - held it over the seal. His blood hissed as it fell and the seal _moved_ \- twisted - irised open, revealing stairs lit by a distant fire.

_*Oh fucking **hell** , oh God, God - Spike -*_

_*It's **now** , love - please - please -*_ Spike was _terrified_ \- the demon was, and the human. The demon wanted to _run_ , wanted to take Xander and get _out_ and Spike fought it grimly and plunged down the stairs, the amulet clutched in his hand. Xander followed, not letting go, and the pooka leaped past them, snarling something, looking mad and strange in the flickering glow.

"Oh - my God -" Buffy breathed, as they came to a wide ledge and looked down. An army was below them - a hundred-thousand, a _million_ strong, or more. Turok-Han, a seething black mass that stretched on and on and they lifted their heads and _howled_. And then - the fight was on.

 

The scythe _sang_ as it winnowed the ancient vampires, and the Potentials whirled and kicked and beheaded with swords blessed by Giles and baptized in holy water. Standing by the stairs, Xander did his best to protect Spike, who was frozen in the grip of the amulet's power. _Something_ was happening, but what, he wasn't sure. The amulet was glowing - a shifting, murky light - and Spike was shaking.

_*What is it? What is it?*_ Xander asked, slashing and stabbing and seeing two, three, five Turok-Han slip past and up the stairs. _*Oz! Some are coming! Be ready*_

_*Ready!*_ faintly, and Spike shot an agonized look at Xander.

_*Don't know! Don't know, it's - it feels - horrible.*_

Whatever it was, was in the link, stabbing flashes of _something_ \- some magic that seemed to twist Spike's very bones, make his head sing. Xander shook his own head, dizzy, and lunged at another Turok-Han. The pooka was killing bare-handed, snapping necks and ripping off heads and snarling, and the Turok-Han were giving him a wide berth.

"Xander! Xander - the sun!" Spike yelled, and Xander turned in dismay. Oz and Derio could _see_ it - Spike could feel it and suddenly the amulet flared, white-hot light that seared Xander's eye and blinded him for a moment. There was a hideous wailing all around and when he could see again Xander saw the Turok-Han falling away from Spike, shrieking. _Burning._

_*Oh, fuck - this is -this is it, this is - Spike! Spike - God -*_ The link was open wide, the images flowing both ways and the _pain_ , and Scavenger was screaming at Buffy, telling her to get _Out! Now!_ The remaining Potentials - Xander thought maybe eight - ran past, up the stairs, and Buffy ran with them - looked back for one moment, agony and tears on her face, blood across her body and spattered up her arms.

"All for _nothing_ ," someone said, and Xander turned to see Jesse standing there, smiling a leering sort of smile.

"All for you, you _fuck_. You're _dead!_ " Xander watched the First swell and simmer and _scream_ and turned away, not caring. The amulet was dazzling-bright, rays of light shooting out of it and the cavern they stood in began to shake - began to collapse, the Turok-Han still fighting and still burning. And Spike - _Spike_ was burning and Xander leaped towards him in horror, only to have _Jack_ stop him - Jack come between them.

"He's with me now - we have to go!" Jack pointed frantically behind him and Xander turned and saw - something. A hole - a pit - greenish-yellow, lifeless light, shadowless _nothing_ and he shoved Jack away and grabbed Spike's hand, wincing as the fire burned him.

"Spike! Come on!"

"He _can't!_ " Jack shouted, dodging a chunk of falling rock and Spike's eyes were wide - the link was _screaming_ \- and he looked at Xander and tried to smile.

"Run, love. Please, please - just run - run -" _*Get **out** , love, you've got to, got to live, got to wait for me, please wait for me - Xander, **please** , can't stop now, can't, can't -*_

_*Love you - love you -*_ "Vampire-mine, love you forever, wait for you forever -" Xander put his hands on Spike's face and kissed him, the fire searing in his lungs and prickling along his body and Scavenger was yanking him away, hauling him away and their hands - slipped apart.

Then he was running again - always _running_ and the pooka was hauling him up the last stair and then shifting, changing - knocking into him, one foreleg curling under and his shoulder dipping down. Xander stared for a moment and then scrambled up on the broad, warm back - sank his fists in to the mane that was like raveled silk and the pooka leaped, flying, running - pounding up and out of the school. The ground was shaking - the school was collapsing, the air was full of the shrieking of tortured metal and the deep, groaning sound of the earth tearing itself apart. A shower of glass rained over them and Xander felt it cut him but it was nothing, nothing to what Spike was feeling and Xander screamed for him.

_*Spike! Spike - please, take it off, take it off!*_

_Almost done, it's almost gone, I can see it, I can - **fuck** , Xander - the sun, the sun -*_

The link was white with Spike's vision - white with the sun he hadn't seen in over a century and it dazzled and burned and tore at him. Xander could feel Jack's hands on Spike's shoulders, pulling him away - toward the doorway into that hell and the pooka's hooves churned, spurning the cracking, shifting earth and carrying them away, away, _away_. From Oz and Derio he saw the rest - all safe but the four who'd died in the pit, the RV's driving frantically out - nearly past the city limit, engines screaming. Dawn huddled over the wadded duster, Faith bandaging a wounded Potential.

_*Spike - they're safe, they're safe - we're out - Spike - I love you, I love you, always, forever - Spike!*_ The pain of the burning abruptly ceased and Xander knew they were into that hell, now - knew Spike was beyond his reach even if he turned back right now. The pooka _ran_ , and leaped, and suddenly they were on the highway past town and the pooka was skidding and stopping and turning - the RV's were there, crooked across the road and the doors opening, everyone spilling out. Oz and Derio leaping out, racing towards them. Xander slid clumsily off the pooka's back and felt him changing somewhere behind him but his eye - his focus - was on Sunnydale. It was a pit - a _crater_ \- a collapsing heap of debris and churned earth and rising dust, and the edge of the destruction raced towards them and then faltered - stalled - stopped. They stood on the edge, and the roar of destruction continued as the center fell further and further away.

_*It's cold, it's cold - God - that hurt - Xander, I love-*_

And the link went dead.


	30. Counting

Xander never actually remembered...what came next. The drive to L.A. was a timeless nothing, with brief, sun-lit stills of people, or things. Oz crouching beside him with a bloodied towel. Spike's duster, lying over the back of the built-in seats. Tara turning from the steering wheel to look at him, tear-tracks on her face. One of the dead Potentials fading into existence on the floor, and Dawn snatching her feet away from the body.

But mostly he simply sat, and reached for Spike. Reached through the link, over and over, until his head felt like it was splitting and the empty socket of his eye wept pinkish tears. The little cuts from the broken glass stung and added to his misery but he couldn't spare a moment for them - found out later Oz had taken the glass out of his shoulder and back and arm, and he hadn't flinched once.

_*Cold, he said it was cold, he doesn't like the cold...Spike, Spike, I love you, I love you -*_

The silence that came back to him _hurt_. Oz had tried, so softly, to soothe him through the link and he'd cut him off, frantic and _furious_. _*Shut up! Shut up, I can't hear him if you're talking to me just **shut up**!*_ Later - days later - he would find Oz and hug him tight and tell him he was sorry, so sorry. But just then he didn't care, because he had to hear _Spike_. And he couldn't.

At the Hyperion, he gathered up Spike's duster and held it, and it was warm from the sun and that was wrong, so _very_ wrong. He stumbled over the dead girl on his way out of the RV, ignoring her - ignoring the wounded Potentials that staggered out onto the sidewalk, ignoring the wolves, who circled anxiously, not quite touching. He made his way into the dimness of the hotel, his head hurting so badly he could barely see. He just wanted _quiet_ , just wanted someplace he could go and try to hear Spike and not be interrupted by all these...people. He stumbled across a wide, marble-floored lobby towards a staircase and ran abruptly into something - something that moved and held him and he looked up into Angel's face.

_*Angel...weeping angel, like that one on that tomb near Spike's old crypt 'Heaven's loving arms enfold her and the angels weep for those left behind'...creepy fucking thing...don't cry, don't cry, only makes it real, Angel, fucking stop it -*_ " _Stop_ it, Angel, just fucking _stop it_ ," he shouted. But it was really just a whisper and Angel curled his hand into the duster Xander was hugging and just stood there, head down. Xander watched a tear fall on the leather and brushed it hastily away, not sure whose it was - not wanting it on the coat.

"He'll be back -" Angel said, and Xander shuddered all over.

"Fuck you. _Don't_ , Angel." Exhaustion made him sway - exhaustion and pain like twin hammer-blows that were driving him to his knees, right there in the lobby and Angel just got an arm under him and _lifted_ and they went up. Third floor, corner room, morning light struggling around the edges of the heavy curtains, _*not even noon yet, not even fucking noon, Spike....*_ and a made-up bed. Xander sank down onto it with a sigh - curled himself into the middle of it. He pulled the coat in close, inhaling leather and smoke and _*cloves blood lemon whiskey...Spike, Spike...please... I love you, I love you, Spike....*_

 

He didn't know - how much time passed. He was asleep, and there was something cool in his arms and a touch on his shoulder. He lifted his head abruptly, gasping in a sharp, startled breath.

"Spike?" His throat hurt and his lips were cracked, stinging and sore.

"It's Oz, Xander."

"Oh, I -" Xander hunched down again and there was a low, growling sound - there was something pushing at the link and Xander fought it but he was so...tired. Weak and hurting and hungry but… _*Spike...Spike….*_

"Xander - damnit -" _*Stop, Xander, **please** , you can't do this, please let us back in, we need you, Xander, please….*_

_*Pack pack pack love you please, pack....*_ Derio, a shadow in the doorway and Xander moaned, pushing his face into the duster, squinting his eye tight shut.

_*No, no, no, can't, gotta wait, gotta...listen...can't hear him, can't hear him….*_

"Xander, please...you can't, you _won't_. He's not...he's gone, Xander." Oz's hand was stroking his hair and he twitched away - tried to - but he hurt, god, he hurt all over and he needed...needed something, needed….

" _No_ ," he rasped, and coughed, and that hurt too, and Derio moved over next to Oz, both of them on the edge of the bed, both touching him now and....he _ached_.

_*But if he calls, if he calls...have to wait for him, have to **listen** -*_

_*Querido, please….*_

"Xander - he _can't_. You know he can't." _*Please let us in, Xander, love you, love you, let us -*_

_*Pack, need you, we need you -*_

Xander felt the heat of them - of hands on his back and in his hair - knees pushing at him, and someone's lips on his forehead and it was all too much, too much. With a sob he turned over, pulling them both in tight, the duster crushed between them. The tears came then and he cried until he felt as light and empty as a husk - as the discarded skin of a snake.

_*We're here, we're here, never leave you, never leave you, oh, love you, we're here….*_

_*Pack, pack, never leave, always, love you, love you, love you….*_

 

After a shower he went shakily downstairs, Oz and Derio flanking him. The cuts from the glass stung under his old thermal shirt but he didn't care. The burn was keeping him awake, and he had to _try_. It was dark outside - blue twilight and the sparkle of L.A. lights and he stared in confusion around the lobby where the remaining Potentials - where _everyone_ \- was gathered. A Christmas tree was in one corner, with many small packages heaped underneath, and on a chair next to it were a glass of milk and a plate of cookies. _Connor_ was standing there, in little sweat-pants and a long-sleeved t-shirt, moccasins on his feet.

"What - what's - going on?" For some reason it just wouldn't _connect_ , in his head, and Xander knew in a detached sort of way that it was because he hadn't eaten - had barely drunk anything. That he was in shock, still, and that was why everything seemed to be wrapped in layers of cotton.

"It's Christmas Eve, Xander," Oz said, and Xander realized with a small shock he'd been upstairs for three days. _*Three days, three days, we had three days….*_

_*Don't, Xander - please.*_

Xander shook his head - let Oz put an arm around him, holding him against a surge of dizziness. "Okay, I'm okay."

"You are not, _querido_. You need to eat."

"Yes, _abuela_ ," Xander murmured, Derio's Granny flashing in the link and Oz _hrummf_ 'd down in his chest, wolfish laughter.

The kitchen was deserted, with the remains of a turkey and a ham on the counter and pots and pans of things all over the stove-top and table. Xander sat wearily in a chair and let Oz and Derio get him a plate, pushing his wet hair back over his shoulders and rubbing tiredly at the empty socket. It still ached a bit, and he hadn't bothered with the patch.

_*You look thin. And you're all...pale. Can't just...can't just sleep....*_ There was fear in that, from Derio - fear and a quickly-hidden thread of anger, because losing Spike was bad enough - he couldn't lose Xander as well. _They_ couldn't.

_*Sorry. I'm sorry, Xander. We need you, we have to... You have to stay here with us.*_ "You really do," Oz said, putting a plate down in front of Xander and settling into a chair - pulling it up close. "Xander?" Oz's face was serious - was drawn with pain and fear - with misery as keen as what Xander was feeling and he reached out and gripped Oz's hand - felt Derio behind him, hands on his shoulders.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry...it hurts so much -" he whispered. _*Can't bear it. How can I bear it? I can't just...he's not **here** and I...miss him, I miss him, I can't just go...on!*_

_* **Have** to! You have to. He's coming back. You have to **be** here for him. You - we all do, we all have to….*_ "Live, Xander. We have to. We can't...can't just hide. He's coming _back_ ; he's going to be here and we -"

"Have to be ready for him," Derio said, and in the link was the idea that Spike's time away might...bring changes. That they might have a hurt Spike to deal with, or one who had...suffered. And they had to be strong.

"Oh," Xander said, shuddering, and Oz pulled him into a hard hug.

_*He'll be **back**. He will, he will, and you'll be here and we'll all be all right. We have to be, Xander.*_

_*I....know. I know. God...hurts so much...I'm sorry, I didn't mean to...to make this so hard for you -*_

" _Don't_ , Xander. Don't. You're hurt more than any of us. Don't apologize." Derio was crouching beside him now, rubbing his knee, looking up with tears in his eyes and Xander cupped his cheek gently - sighed, finally, and then drew in a long, hard breath and sat up a little straighter.

"I _am_ sorry. I'm...yeah. Gonna try. Okay? I'll...have some food and -"

"Need more cookies, Uncle Oz." Connor was in the doorway to the kitchen, looking speculatively at Xander, chocolate smeared on his mouth. Xander could see Angel in the dark, wide eyes, but Connor was blond and slim, and Xander remembered how small Darla had been.

_*God. That's weird.*_

"Do you? You sure?" Oz said, smiling, and Connor nodded.

"Da ate the ones for Santa!" he said, his little voice filled with outrage and Oz gave Xander's shoulder a squeeze and stood up, crossing over to the pantry and getting out a package of cookies.

"Okay, how many?"

"Da says three is 'nuff."

"Three sounds good." Oz got out the cookies and held them out, and Connor slowly crossed the kitchen - stood there for a minute, staring at Xander. Xander tried a small smile back, and Connor ducked his head.

"Who's that?" he whispered, and Oz knelt down, pointing to a picture on the refrigerator.

"That's Uncle Xander. Remember? We looked at the pictures yesterday." And there _were_ pictures, all over the front of the 'fridge, and all of them down low so Connor could see them easily.

_*Who put - pictures up? Can't see Angel....*_ Xander took a bite of ham and Derio snorted softly.

_*Nah. It was Wesley. He said family is too important and Connor was gonna know his.*_

_*He's right,*_ Xander thought, frowning a little. Family...was all. And Connor had a _lot_. _*Lucky kid.*_

"See, there's Uncle Xander right there," Oz was saying, pointing, and Connor gravely studied the picture. "Remember?"

Connor nodded slowly."Yeah. And Uncle Will."

Xander felt his heart skip and then _pound_ , and he carefully took a drink of the milk in his glass - set it down with a hand that shook. "You call him Uncle S-Spike, okay, Connor? He doesn't like Will." His voice was still a rasp, and Connor looked at him for a long moment.

"Uncle _Spike_ ," Connor said, and grinned, and then he turned and ran out of the kitchen, clutching the cookies in his hand. The picture on the 'fridge was one Dawn had taken with her digital camera when she'd visited them in Seattle. Xander in a chair, a piece of wood in his hand and shavings all around him, Spike leaning over the back of the chair, hands lightly on his shoulders. Casual - smiling - and Xander closed his eye and tried not to cry all over again.

_*Okay, I'm okay...God...pack, pack, need him, need him….*_

_*We're here,*_ Oz thought, and they _were_ , and Xander nodded and slowly, slowly finished his Christmas dinner.

 

Three weeks later all of the Potentials were gone. A few had gone back home - determined to finish school, get back on track. The rest went to England, to learn about Slaying and to become the newest part of the old, old Council. The Pembrokes already had a building somewhere near Wimbledon Common for the Academy, as they called it. Anya had been on the speaker phone for a half-hour, detailing the building and the new Council headquarters and then, on the private line had asked Xander if he was all right. Xander hadn't been able to say much more than _'no'_ and _'I'm trying'_ and Anya had, for once, and surprisingly, left it at that.

Giles and Ethan were gone as well. Giles was eager to get the new Council organized, and Ethan was eager to throw a wrench into the proceedings. They'd argued for days about what to keep and what to get rid of, and Xander had silently agreed with Ethan that most of the old Council ways should go right in the trash. When they'd left, on a morning of rare rain, Xander had hugged Giles hard and just leaned into him for a moment, memorizing the scent of Souchong tea and dust, musky after-shave and the faint, sweet scent that reminded him of hash. Giles' scent and Giles' faded blue eyes and hard grip on his hand, and then they were gone, and Xander went away upstairs and lay silent and shaking in the bed for hours.

He felt useless, roaming around the Hyperion - felt numb, and half asleep. They'd all stayed on mainly to be sure the First was really gone, and to fill out forms and paperwork for government Disaster Relief checks. Sunnydale was going down as the biggest sink-hole in history and the government - whether prodded by horror or guilt - was paying up fast and big. And now that things were slowly going back to normal, Xander wanted to simply _go_. Wanted to buy another truck - he'd left his in Sunnydale with Oz's van - and get back to Seattle, back to their _house_. He ached to be alone with his family. Dawn - had decided to come with them. She couldn't face high school - not after everything that had happened. She was so far ahead in some areas and so far _behind_ in others she wanted to just get her GED in Seattle and start at a community college. She was sixteen-going-on-seventeen but her eyes were ageless and Buffy only fought her half-heartedly before giving in.

And the Hyperion - the A.I. team - made Xander twitchy. Cordelia was so _different_ now - so very much _not_ Queen C. The Sidhe had given her something - some small bit of their own magic - and now the visions were more like a psychic trance. A little work-around of the Powers' 'gift', one that Cordy had embraced whole heartedly. There was one hitch - she had to have a garden, with trees, and she had to sleep overnight in the garden once a month - full moon - to 'recharge' her magic. Angel was busy directing a crew that was ripping out paving stones and concrete in the hotel's courtyard and meeting with a landscaper so that Cordy would have the best garden his money could provide. The profits from the heroin sale had turned out to be superfluous and after some discussion - one Xander had barely participated in -they'd turned it over to A.I. To help the hopeless or helpless or whatever it was Angel was doing. Connor was a filthy mess every night, covered in dirt and cement dust and Xander would track that small blond head with a wary, bemused eye, never quite getting used to the 'Uncle' or the 'Da', either. Or that he called Cordelia Mommy, and that Cordy...loved it.

 

"Oz - we really need to go. Get back home," Xander said, sitting down in the lobby one evening, watching Angel read to Connor on the couch; something about dogs and circles, and Connor was making little dog noises.

"Yeah." Oz was slowly winding a piece of copper wire into one of Derio's dreads. It had green and black beads on it, and Xander put his hand onto the white beads around his own throat - thought for a moment, with a lurch of sorrow, about the beads Spike had been given. _*Ogoun is your protector,*_ Derio had said. Green and black beads and Xander reached out and touched the ones in Derio's hair.

"I'm - finding a truck tomorrow. Calling Manny. I can't - be here. I want to go h-home." The waiting on this and that was over - ennui had kept him in this small orbit for the last three weeks. Now he felt awake, at last - felt _ready_. So very ready.

"Okay. That's okay," Oz said, small smile and _*Pack, love you, home, home, home.*_ The desire in him was as strong. The city was too _much_ \- too many demons and too many humans and there was no place quiet, it seemed - no place that was just theirs. Derio looked up from tuning his fiddle and smiled as well, _*pack, go home, need to go home.*_ As tired of the city as Oz was, and happy to see the first flash of real _want_ from Xander. _*Welcome back, hermano.*_

_*Yeah...back for sure, Derio...I am.*_ "We got so much money...let's _build_. Let's - add to our house. Dawn needs her own room, and...and maybe a place for carving... I want...I have to have something to _do_ ," Xander said quietly, desperate, and Oz nodded. Outwardly calm, joyous in the link and Xander felt relief and a strange sort of fluttery happiness wash over him. _*Didn't screw this up. Still here...still family.*_

"Yeah. It's okay, Xander. We can." _* **Always** family, Xander. Never doubt us.*_ Xander drew a shaky breath and pressed a fast kiss to Oz's temple - got up and wandered away, trying to calm down.

Buffy and Faith were out on patrol with Wes and Gunn. The rest of 'the girls' were out shopping for a cold-weather wardrobe for Dawn. And Johnathan and Robin were sparring downstairs, Robin trying to teach Johnathan the basics of self-defense. He had decided, with Faith's encouragement, to move to Cleveland where apparently another Hellmouth had opened. And they were taking Johnathan as a fledgling Watcher, which Xander found...fitting. They were just waiting on the finalization of paperwork - the Council had bought them a house, but the 'closing' was taking forever by fax.

Xander went behind the counter and stared at Cordy's desk - stared until his eye watered and then something clicked, an idea suddenly formed, and he walked over. A calendar lay there, a new calendar for the year, one from a bank or store because it was cheap - plain black printing on white paper, generic scenes from around L.A. Xander stared down at it, and remembered what Jack had said.

_*Seven years. Seven years to one, so that means....*_ Xander grabbed the calendar and a pen and found a piece of scrap paper. _*Three-hundred and sixty-five days in a year, so that's...five and....*_ He scribbled hastily and then looked at the number. Fifty-two. Solstice on the 21st of December, and thirty days in December so that was.... _*That's...twenty-one days to today, and fifty-two days is....*_ He counted silently, and then circled February 11th with his pen. _*That day. One year for Spike is that day. Two years is....*_ After ten more minutes he had seven circles on the calendar - seven days. Seven years in his one and he had something to count, now. Something to look forward to, something to give the days a purpose, instead of the formless, endless daze of nothing he'd been existing in.

_*One year in...thirty-one days...get through a year...Spike, Spike...I miss you, I love you, I love you….*_ He wanted to show the wolves and he got up, clutching the calendar close, heading back to the main area of the lobby. Derio was on the couch now with his fiddle, playing something that sounded...folksy. Spike would have made fun, but listened all the same. Angel was holding Connor on his lap and his face... He looked content - he looked _happy_ \- his eyes shining in the lamplight, moving his legs a little so Connor swayed to the beat.

 

_"What for should I sing you of classical fun,_   
_Or of games, whether Grecian or Persian?_   
_Sure the Curragh's the place where the knowing one's done,_   
_And the Mallow that flogs for diversion._   
_For fighting, for drinking, for ladies and all,_   
_No time like our time, o'er was made, O,_   
_By the rollicking boys, for war, ladies and noise,_   
_The boys of the Irish Brigade, O!"_

 

"Hear that, now? That's us, Connor. We're Irish and that's us," Angel said, pride and love in his voice, and Connor giggled, watching Derio's deft fingers and the rise and fall of the bow - mimicking him with his own little hands. The song ended and Derio made a small bow when Angel clapped Connor's hands together and then he grinned, wolfish and sly, and started another tune. After a moment Angel recognized it and groaned.

"No! Not that one!"

"It's Irish too," Derio said, laughing, and started to sing. Angel growled but Connor was laughing and Oz sat up from his sprawled position on the floor and started singing too, in a ludicrously exaggerated Irish accent. Xander felt a reluctant smile tugging at his mouth and then suddenly _memory_ , flooding into his consciousness. Memory decades old, of Spike singing this same tune to Angel, wicked grin on his face and Angle howling and chasing him - trying to catch him and Spike nimbly skipping away, staying one step ahead and singing the whole time. Teasing and tormenting until he fell down laughing and Angel pounced on him and squashed him to silence. The words were right _there_ , and Xander wiped at a sudden tear and looked out at the late-afternoon sun that was sifting, thick and golden, through the front door. And softly sang along.

_"Mush-a ring dum-a do dum-a da...wack fall the daddy-o, wack fall the daddy-o...There's whiskey in the jar...."_

 

Leaving L.A. felt _good_. Xander had never been happier to watch something disappear in the rear-view mirror. Beside him in the truck, Dawn listened silently to music on her iPod. Trying to be a grown-up, even though three days ago Buffy had flown out of LAX to England and Dawn was feeling more than a little lost. But she was adamant that she was going - that she wanted to stay with her 'other' family, and the link sang softly with her sorrow and excitement and love. It was soothing, to have her in there - distracting, so Xander didn't have to think about how sad Buffy had looked under her veneer of cheerful adventurism. How she'd held them all a little too long, and how she'd looked so small and so alone, walking away down the concourse.

Oz had found another strange old van - a VW one that was painted sea-green and pale pink like some monstrosity out of _Miami Vice_. Derio called it the pimpmobile and had threatened to hang beads in the windows and put down shag carpet. Oz had laughingly agreed to get a paint job 'soon'.

_*Home...home in two days, home...the Sound and the sea and the mountain looking over us...going home, Spike. Waiting for you. Thinking about you every day...every night...missing you so much. Love you so much...Spike, my Spike, my love….*_

Tara was staying in L.A. for a while longer. She wanted to learn some things from Fred - from Wesley. Magic and science in equal measure, and she promised to come visit in a bit, when they were settled. Leaving her had hurt - a tearing ache that had shivered in the link and made them all cling tightly together, doing their best to reassure each other.

_*Tara's going to come and stay. We'll talk her into it. Can't have her gone...miss her too...Spike, Spike...vampire-mine. Waiting for you. Just waiting...trying to be strong...hold fast, my love. Hold fast.*_

 

 

________________________  
 _The Boys of the Irish Brigade_ \- _traditional_ \- Sung by David Kincaid  
 _Whiskey in the Jar - traditional_


	31. Coping

The eleventh of February came and Xander felt an odd sort of surge - excitement and defiance in equal measure. He'd _survived_ it - got through fifty-two days without Spike and Spike was one year done - one year down. _*Less all the time - one year gone...miss you, Spike, miss you so much.*_

It had rained on and off for most of the week and the eaves dripped on them as he and Manny stood on the back porch, making notes. The construction was getting underway in a day or so - tearing out the back wall and adding three bedrooms upstairs, making the kitchen larger, adding a room for Xander to carve in - maybe making it large enough for a piano, something that Dawn had been quietly yearning for.

She was keeping up her singing practice with Derio and she hummed or sang softly around the house while she studied and experimented in the kitchen and tried to find a part-time job. She was so _different_ here, out of Buffy's shadow. A more grown-up - more _capable_ girl - who was the Queen of the house. The three of them would spoil her endlessly if they could, but Dawn had quietly said _no_ , in various ways, to their indulgences.

_*We'll leave it for Spike. He can spoil her all he wants when he - when he comes home. She won't say no to him...never has.*_

Manny had been angry on Spike's behalf - angry and relieved and worried about the Sidhe. They weren't trusted in demon circles, and he'd questioned Xander closely about what Jack and Scavenger had said and done. In the end he seemed satisfied, but Xander knew the story was making the rounds of that _other_ Seattle, and he also knew that several groups of demons had gone to view the Sunnydale crater. It was all quiet there, Manny said - truly dead and gone and Xander hoped that Faith and Robin and Jonathan weren't having to deal with too much Hellmouth craziness in Cleveland.

On Valentine's Day he finally hung Spike's duster in the closet, instead of having it lying over the empty side of the bed. It hurt, but it felt good, too.

 

Emails came two and three times a week from England and Xander mostly let Dawn handle those. He was locked into what he was doing - concentrating so hard on just _surviving_ \- that he didn't want to fend off questions or have to muster the energy to show interest in anything. He _was_ interested, he just.... Just couldn't bring himself to get involved.

He listened to Dawn talk about the doings of the new Council, and what the Pembrokes and Giles and Ethan were building was good - was _better_ than the old Council by far. Grey was seeping into the Watcher's black-and-white view of the world and every demon sect, clan, species or individual - driven by curiosity or a desire for peace - that approached the Council transported the Pembrokes into raptures. Some of the demons were amazingly literate and historically oriented and already human history was gaining new facets.

Apparently the younger Pembrokes envisioned a time when demons would be citizens, just like humans, but Xander silently doubted that many demons would care for that 'privilege'. But it gave them something to do, and it made Dawn delve even deeper into her language studies. Xander even found her poring over history books, and her half-formed notion of going into one of the sciences was rapidly being subsumed under a growing fascination with archeology and anthropology. _'Indiana Jane'_ , he teasingly called her, and wished desperately that Spike were there to tell her stories and help her with her Greek. And probably buy her a fedora and a whip.

Tara's emails and phone calls were easier to deal with; she spoke about her own studies and related snippets of Connor's doings and the most recent battle or demi-apocolypse the A.I team had averted. Wesley's magic skills were much along the lines of Giles' own, and she was learning a more formal and regulated kind of occultism from him. And _he_ was learning about 'kitchen' magic and proving to have a bit of a knack. She talked about Cordelia-as-Mommy and about Gunn and how tough he was - and how loving with Wes - and about _Fred_ , in a kind of cautious way that said to Xander she was still being careful of her heart.

Xander sat down once a week to laboriously two-finger-type a message to her; mostly details of the house and what had gotten built in the past few days. He pressed her for her own ideas about what she wanted the house to be like and cheerfully added space for a still-room when she talked about making her own soaps and teas and essential oils.

 

February blew out and March came in no warmer and just as wet. Construction carried on under tarps and whispering, rustling layers of plastic, and Oz and Derio started a kind of patrol. Mostly it was a desire to establish their territory - make boundaries that any demon would respect. After a week of them going out and coming in, spangled with mist all along their fur and the link singing with _*water, run, hunt, good pack pack pack*_ , Xander gave in and went with them.

Running along the sandy margin of the Duwamish, breathing in wet lung-fulls of sea-salt air and the thick, sharp smells of earth and wet wood and winter-dead grass felt _good_. He let the hyena stretch out - let it shriek up at the low-riding, gibbous moon and play a rough game of King of the Hill with the wolves. The link was full of happiness and Xander realized how much the wolves had been missing him - and how much he'd missed _them_. He realized with a wince of guilt that he'd been cutting them off - tuning them out. Because he didn't want to push his sadness onto them, and because….

_*It hurts. Hurts to hear you and not...him. Hurts to have this when he **can't**...shouldn't have it if he...can't.*_

_*No, no, Xander. You can't do that. Can't leave us like that and we won't leave **you**. Won't. We told him we'd take care of you, told him we'd be here. Promised. We won't break that promise.*_ Oz-wolf shouldered him roughly, making him sit down hard on the cold, wet ground and Xander pulled him close and hugged him; warm, rough fur scratchy on his face, thick _wolf_ smell and the smell of apples.

_*Pack, family, **ours**. You're ours as much as you're his and we won't let you go. Lean on us, hermano, let us help, don’t be afraid...hurts, to not have you.*_ Derio-wolf pushed in for his own hug, cold nose in Xander's cheek and the pepper-lemon smell of his fur. Xander clutched at them both, holding on tight - shuddered for a moment with tears. But then he stopped and wiped his face - lay back on the grass and sighed as the wolves curled close under his arms. Let the link open wide and just sank into it; stayed there for long, long minutes, reconnecting. Reaffirming. When they finally stood up and began a slow walk home, Xander felt - almost normal, again. The ache of Spike's absence was still there, but the love and delight and _*want*_ from the wolves eased it - soothed him - made him feel part of a family again.

_*Sorry. I'm sorry. I won't - hide, anymore,*_ he promised, and the wolves yipped soft 'thank you's.

April the second was year two, and Xander stood in the kitchen, a bottle of water in his hand and a fuzz of sawdust covering him. Remembering, in a rush of bitter-sweetness, Spike on the phone to him.

_"So, pet...what are you wearing?"_

_"About ten pounds of sawdust."_

_"Mmmm...all furry and sweet-smelling, I'll bet…."_

_"I gotta go, Spike. I'll be home - around six. I promise I won't chop off or ventilate anything. Love you."_

_"Love you, pet. Hurry home."_

 

Xander drew in a deep breath and crossed the day off on the calendar. _*Getting there. God I miss you, love. Miss your voice so much, telling me things...telling me you love me, telling me you want me.... Miss your hands, miss your laugh...miss you reading to me, miss fighting over the remote and the radio and dinner...God, Spike, Spike….*_

 

The missing was like a funny little tide that ebbed and flowed differently each day. Sometimes there was almost nothing, like when he was working. Up on the scaffold, hammering, sawing - _creating_ \- he could push everything away and just exist in the radius of a saw-blade or the numbers on a tape measure. Sweet new wood smell, mud and rain and the Duwamish. The smell of the skinny little black cigars that Manny smoked, and the hot tea and coffee the crew drank.

And then - some small thing... A line or two of a song - a glimpse of a black-leather coat in a crowd - an accented voice coming from the TV and he was drowning in it - lost in it. Pain like a knife to his heart and he had to stop and just _breathe_. Reach for the wolves in the link and let them help - let them soothe and calm. Worst of all, probably, was feeling that hurt from Oz or from Derio. Raw ache that only made his worse and they'd got themselves in that loop once or twice. Gotten it from _Dawn_ , who would fight it and fight it and then give in and look through her computer files at all the pictures she had of Spike. Look at her archived emails from him, or open a notebook and see his precise and beautiful handwriting; notations in her Latin homework or a line or two about a book.

Then they would huddle together, doing whatever they had to, laughing at how horrible it was even as they cried themselves hoarse. Xander had his postcards still, tucked into the mirror's edge. And the picture Dru had taken, that was Spike and was _not_ Spike. Was something out of time and memory and almost didn't hurt. But the picture from this house - their first night there when they'd nested on mattresses in the living room floor and Derio, getting up early, had captured Spike and Xander curled around each other, Spike's head on his chest, Xander's arms holding him close…. _That_ made him catch his breath and shiver, every time. Some mornings he went without aid of his mirror, and fled the room before he saw.

 

April and then May, and Dawn was graduating from her GED classes and they all went to see. Tara up from L.A., almost completing them, and Dawn shining like a star in her class of older women and work-worn tradesmen and tired-looking girls with mothers and babies cheering them on. She'd already signed up for classes in the fall - was impatient to get the 'required' work out of the way so she could move on to bigger and more interesting thing. Derio took dozens of pictures, because Dawn wanted to be sure Spike would see this moment as if he'd been there. It was a long day, with a celebratory dinner atop the Space Needle and a long, slow walk all over the parts of Seattle they liked best, just being together. A good day, and a happy one, but there was something in the air, and Xander felt uneasy until they were all safe home.

He woke with a gasp, his hand curling for the stake he didn't have under his pillow anymore - groping for the body that wasn't there. Something was shivering through the link - twisting through the air like a subtle perfume. Something familiar and _not_ at the same time. Xander held his breath - closed his eyes - _concentrated_ on it. And felt his heart lurch painfully in his chest.

_*Not, not, not. It **isn't**. Fuck, I'm asleep, I'm - what the **hell**? Oz - you there? Oz, Derio -*_ Sleepy grumble from the wolves but Xander was already up and yanking on a pair of sweats, stumbling out of the bedroom and down the hall, down the stairs. Soft sound from Dawn's room, and Tara asleep on the fold-out couch and Xander almost ran to the front door. Pulled it open and stopped dead, the screen door mesh cold and yielding under his hands. _Something_...was there, in the darkness. _Someone_. There was a candle burning by the door - Dawn insisted - and its flame cast a feeble circle of tired gold light onto the porch.

" _Spike?_ " Xander called, and his voice was cracking - strained and hoarse - and he was gasping for air, shivering. When the hand came out of the darkness - pale and slim and tipped with long, red nails - he nearly screamed.

"No, oh no, oh no," Drusilla whispered, and Xander recoiled, the air hissing out of his lungs in something like a sob. "No, not my prince, not my love…."

"He's not _yours_ ," Xander growled, and Drusilla came closer, her face fading in out of the blackness. Her hair was swept up and pinned with long, Chinese-red sticks, and tendrils of it hung down beside her ears and on her throat. Wearing some sort of black shirt that showed pale, muscled arms and her collarbones - the upper swell of her breasts. _Modern_ , and so different than anything he'd seen before. She had a choker of black and white and silver on - onyx and ivory, and very old-looking.

"No? No," she echoed sadly, and put her hand up to the screen. "Always this between us, this fish's net. Sieving out your intentions and your passions and leaving me with cold comfort…." Her palm flattened against the house's barrier and the wards Tara had made a part of the very foundations sparked cold green fire. Drusilla hissed, and pulled slowly away.

"What are you - why are you _here?_ Spike's not...he's not -"

"Not there, I know. Not anywhere in _this_ world. Did you think I wouldn't feel that? Think I wouldn't feel everything he was being torn down - burned up - turned to ashes? To ashes, to ashes and _he_ fell down, but _you_ didn't - you _didn't_." Drusilla's eyes were gold gleams in the darkness and her mouth snarled, and Xander flinched from that - from the wash of pure guilt and misery that overcame him. Behind him he heard Tara waking up - heard the quiet tread of the wolves upstairs, coming closer. And - _fuck_ \- the creak of Dawn's door that he couldn't seem to oil out.

_*It's Dru, she's here, please - be careful, I don't - don't know what she wants.*_

_*Fuck -*_ Oz thought, and wolf-sense shivered through the air, he and Derio both shifting minutely, scenting the intruder on their door step.

"Xander?" Dawn asked, sleepy-soft voice, and he closed his eyes for a moment, just breathing.

"It's okay, Dawn, it's just…."

"You _tell_ her. _I'm_ the fire that burnt the phoenix and brought it back to life - the womb, little boy, the _seed_ -" Drusilla seemed abruptly hysterical - furious - and Xander took a step back.

"Xander?" Tara now, and he could feel his family at his back - wall of living heat and _*pack, family, brother, love love protect love.*_

"It's - this is....this is Drusilla. She - she made...Spike into a...vampire." Sharp gasp from Dawn and Oz's shoulder pushing into him - Derio on the other side, gentle pressure.

"And you're all here, all here in the nest, cozy as little birds all agreeing. Changeling-child and moon-drinkers and the good Witch of the North, though _she's_ got a tinker's dam in her blood, hasn't she?" Drusilla crowded up close to the screen door again, ignoring the St.Elmo's fire that crawled over her. "And _you_ , sweet beast. You, you, you...." She put her hands flat on the barrier and growled and Xander finally shook off his shock and paralysis and glared back, letting the hyena up and _out_ , so that her scent of blood and licorice and church incense was suddenly strong in his nose. He knew his eyes were the same cold fire as the wards - watched the _otherness_ of the hyena call Dru's demon up. And then gone again, and she leaned back, making a low moaning sound.

" _Why?_ Why, why, why did you do it? Why did you let it? The _olders_ , the others, they're not to be trusted! They're not to be _seen!_ Let him go off with _Jack_ , Jack, Jack -"

"I tried to stop him," Xander whispered, feeling suddenly cold, and small. "I _tried_. Dru - he...he wouldn't be stopped. I _tried_." Xander blinked, tears slipping from his eye and stinging in the empty socket and Drusilla cocked her head to one side, watching him.

"Does it hurt, to cry that bone cup full of tears? Do you have the seeing still, Wodin Alfadur? Or did that wight take it from you?"

"I - still see. I...Drusilla. What - do you want?"

"He's gone, beast. Winked out like a candle...out, out!" She crossed her arms over her chest and put her nails to her biceps - drew them down her arms and lines of scarlet sprang up behind. Blood welling in the furrows and there was noise somewhere off to the left; a hiss, quickly muffled. "Gone and not mine and there's no one left of what was before...no one left…."

"Angel's still here," Xander said, and Drusilla licked her nails, her eyes opaque and far away.

"Oh, daddy's got a new family, hasn't he? Monkey see, monkey do; he couldn't bear to not have what my _Spike_ had and he infected Grandmummy with his nasty soul...now her get sits on his lap and he won't take away _that_ innocent's toys, will he?"

"Spike has a soul," Xander said softly, knowing that Dru knew that and wondering why it was different from Angel's.

"Yes - yes he does. Soul of fire and starlight, and the burning...burning fish...." She laughed softly. " _His_ soul is not like to _that_ soul - his soul loves and takes in what it can't kill. Daddy's soul hates and only wants the darkness to end. He can't see, can he, that the darkness is the only thing that makes the light so pretty."

"Do _you_ have a soul, Drusilla?" Xander asked, and he took a step up to the door and leaned there, and her hands came out and touched his, palm to palm through the barrier and the screen and the wards. Cold hands, strong as bone.

"Oh no, sweet beast. No, no, it was stripped from me - split me open and pulled it out; milkweed silk on the wind, all drifting away. I felt it go with my blood, and blessed it as it went." She leaned even closer, until Xander could see clearly the color of her eyes. Or, the color they were at the moment because they shimmered with the demon's gold and that made the actual color uncertain and shifting. "I never missed it, but I was cold, wasn't I? Until my poet came to me; until my William, my Spike…."

" _Mine_ ," Xander whispered, and Drusilla laughed, soft and deadly.

"Yes, yes, yours, little boy - little toy. _The soul that was born to die for you...._ I whistled him to me but he dies for _you_ now. When Angel's gotten his Grail and you've made your peace with that devil in the red dress, you tell my love I've found a new boy to keep me warm. Tell him...tell him...we're counting crows. _'One for sorrow, two for joy, three for a funeral, four for a boy….'_ "

"Five for heaven," Tara whispered, and Dru smiled at her, her eyes huge and wet and suddenly very human.

"Six for hell," Derio said, shivering against Xander's side, and Xander slipped an arm around him - around Oz, who was holding Dawn's hand.

"Seven for a secret, never to be told." A new voice, accented in something unfamiliar and Dru stretched out her hand and pulled someone into the dim light of the guttering candle. Taller than she was, hair a burnished copper that fell in wisps and locks to his shoulders. Huge green eyes and a slim, ringed hand slipping into Dru's. Utterly unlike Spike, and somehow _exactly_ like him, and Xander shuddered - leaned back into Tara's hand, that had settled at the small of his back.

" _Sinjan_ ," Drusilla sighed, and smiled at him. "I've killed my Christmas wren, and now it's to take him on procession. You, beast. Al-ex-an-der...." Dru pressed her hand to the screen again, pushing, and the wards flared up high and bright. " _You_ , mind your book and mind your heart and take the Slayer's skin when you're called to go riding. That's the only way you'll see your love again." She pulled back abruptly and she and Sinjan turned and walked away. A moment later they all heard the rattle of a motorcycle's engine, roaring to life and then dying rapidly away.

_*God, what the hell was that? What did she mean?*_ "Everybody - everybody okay?"

"She's scary," Dawn said, and Xander turned around and looked at her and started laughing, pulling Dawn to him for a hard, hard hug.

"She's fucking terrifying, Dawn, and don't ever forget it. God -"

_*We're here, we're here -*_ from the wolves, and Tara was stroking his back and he kissed Dawn's cheek and sighed - let her pull away a little.

"Fuck, I - would rather not have talked to her," Xander said, and Oz took Dawn's hand again, smiling at her a little.

"Maybe it's for the best, though. She left, and she pretty much...gave up any claim. One less thing to worry about."

"Fuck, I guess." Exhaustion suddenly swamped Xander - exhaustion that was jangled and tense and he knew that even though he felt as if his bones were made of lead, he couldn't sleep now. "I'm gonna make some hot chocolate. Anybody wanna join me?"

"I'd love some," Tara murmured, still stroking his back, and he reached for her and put his arm around her as well.

"Yeah, me," from Dawn, and assent in the link from the wolves. After a while the kitchen was full of the sweet scent of chocolate and the Souchong Tara had brewed, after all, and Xander let the soft _*pack, family, pack*_ soothe him.

_*Slayer's skin and going riding...God. I don’t need more riddles and I don't need...don't need more otherworldly **crap**. Three and a half years, four in July, that's past the halfway mark...Spike, I miss you...so much. Waiting for you, love, waiting for you forever and a day, if that's what it takes.*_

 

 

______________________  
Drusilla quotes the poem _Shake Hands_ , by A.E. Housman  
The Xander/Spike phone dialogue is from chapter eighteen of 'Changes'.


	32. Retreat

June was hot - not Sunnydale hot, but hot enough that the last week or so of construction was done shirtless and sweating, hair pulled back with rubberbands and Dawn marching outside with sunblock and ice tea. The house was finished on June twenty-eighth and that night they had a small party. Tara blessed the new rooms and they all took turns sweeping the 'bad' energy out with a broom. Then they burned the broom in the fire Oz had (illegally) built in the back yard, because that was part of it - send the bad all up in smoke. Derio had a new broom and they made a small and silly ceremony of it - passing it through the smoke of the fire and 'blessing' it, much like Sleeping Beauty's fairy godmother's had blessed the infant. They went to bed giggling, and Tara went back to L.A. the next day. And Xander walked into the new studio, feeling a tingle of anticipation in his hands.

Ever since Drusilla's visit he'd had nightmares - some just an uneasiness that persisted through the day, some screaming horrors that prompted Oz and Derio to sleep in the bed with him, curled up close and shushing him when he shivered. The bad dreams were tapering off, but Xander's head was full of images, now - images of Spike. Dru had stirred up all the memories that the claim-spell had given him and now he wanted to make those images of Spike concrete.

First was William - bookish, retiring and so very unsure. In love with love, in love with romance - in love with beauty. He didn't even really know _how_ he was going to make this - how he was going to put all that was William into a piece of wood - but he was going to try. A few miles away there had been a lot being cleared for construction and an old, lightning-blasted oak had been cut down. One section of fire-scarred trunk had simply looked _right_ and Xander had paid the men to haul it to his house and dump it in the yard. Now it stood in his studio, stripped of its bark - waiting. Xander flexed his hands, and began.

_*Going to carve you, Spike - make something beautiful. Nothing as beautiful as you, but as close as I can get. Thinking about you every day, love...waiting here for you. The house is done...I think you'll like it. We put new facings on all the doors and windows so they match, and new floors down...sanded them so smooth, just for you. Never have to worry about splinters... Love you, Spike. Love you….*_

For a while Xander had tried to hide how much he talked to Spike. Like Oz and Derio would think he was crazy. But Derio did it, too, and then Oz confessed to it, and he'd felt better, then. He didn't know if Spike could hear them or not, but he couldn't _not_ do it. If Spike _could_ hear - how much would he hate it if they went silent on him? And if he couldn't…. _*Don't care. Talking anyway because.... Because I miss you, and at least this way I'm...I'm trying, love. I hope you can hear me. I hate being here alone. I hate being **here** , and you're there, and I don't know what's happening to you…. Hold fast, love, hold fast.*_

He worked for hours the first day - until his hands cramped and he had to either quit or risk ruining something - or hurting himself. Oz had soup on the stove, still warm, and bread wrapped in a towel, and Xander sat wearily down in the kitchen and ate - felt in the link for the wolves. They were downtown at a club, working. Doing a fix for the sound-system and staying to check and be sure it was right. Getting a reputation with bands and clubs that if you wanted to sound _good_ , those two were the ones to call, because they could balance the music and the voices so that the bass didn't drown everything out, or the singer cut across all others. It was the sort of work that suited them both - odd days and hours, musicians and music talk and days spent lounging at home or loafing all over the city. Dawn called them slackers, but did it with a smile.

Dawn was, herself, out at the movies with a cousin - or a niece, or maybe an aunt, it was hard to say - of Manny's extended family. So they knew she was safe. Dawn's own views on demons had always been more flexible than Buffy's, and Dawn had friends all over. 

Xander drank the last of the good beef soup and put his bowl and cup into the sink - went to stand in the studio doorway. The last rays of the setting sun glinted off the Duwamish, gold-red gleams on the choppy water. Sedge and cattails were thick right below their house and a heron rose up suddenly from the dense patch, winging away towards the north. Upstairs, he and Spike's bedroom also overlooked the water, as did Oz and Derio's, and they'd built a deck up there, for late-night moon watching. Dawn and Tara now had their own rooms, plus a guest room and a 'music' room that was rapidly filing with instruments and strange, cast-off sound equipment.

The still-room for Tara was off the kitchen and encompassed part of the now-screened in porch, and it was already thick with scents and living green. Tara had a ledge-full of herbs in little pots all along the back; mostly for cooking, but some for medicine, and some for magic. A small wood-burning stove and a refrigerator were in one corner, but the center of the room was taken up by a long, long table that was littered with pots and bowls and beakers, mortar and pestle and a stand of thin, sharp knives. Dawn had volunteered to keep things in order while Tara was gone, but everyone wandered in from time to time; to clip rosemary for cooking, or pinch off some sage for a little home-made incense, or to nibble the mint that grew sweet and sharp by the door.

The form that was emerging from the oak trunk was long and sinewy, and Xander wondered if it would convey what he wanted it to. A man whose every moment and breath and word was aimed towards finding the beauty in everything around him - even to the exclusion of some hard truths. A dreamer, whose heart was bared proudly for all to see. A swooning figure, head on hand and eyes turned towards heaven, a spill of books and papers and pens all around. Xander could see it so _clearly_ ; the blocky shape that reclined under the sheet didn't begin to hint at what he dreamed of. But he was confident.

_*Making this for you, love. You'll tell me I'm a git - tell me William was nothing to be proud of. But he was you - **is** you - no matter how hard you want to deny it.*_ Xander thought of his postcards upstairs - of Spike whispering Shakespeare and Byron and e.e. cummings in his ear when they made love. _*He's you and you're him and I wouldn't have that without him.*_ Spike would understand even as he pretended offense.

 

The fourth year ended on July sixteenth and Xander spent it in the studio, making the progressively smaller and smaller cuts and grooves that added details to the statue. It wasn't a portrait - Xander didn't have the skills for that, and he didn't want it to be a copy. It was an...impression, with the boldest features highlighted, and the rest done in smooth, sweeping lines. Only the books and pens were detailed, and the folded pair of wire-rimmed spectacles that Xander - grinning to himself - had half hidden under a drift of paper. The high cheekbones and curve of Spike's lips were the same - that _real_ smile that was one of Xander's favorite things to see. But the body was more androgynous than male, and the wide-open, sky-turned eyes were...different, somehow.

"It's beautiful, Xander. _He_ is," Dawn said, leaning on his shoulder as Xander slowly burnished the wood with sandpaper, making it as smooth and perfect as Spike's own skin - working around the charred edges of the lightning strike that had, somehow, ended up in the center of the figure's chest.

"You think? Not half as good as the real thing," Xander said, small smile and small shrug, and Dawn whapped him gently.

"Don't act like it's not good - you _know_ it is. It's...it makes me feel...." Dawn stopped for a minute, chewing her lower lip and glancing at Xander with a small frown.

"What?"

"Don't be mad at me. It's like - it makes me sad." She glanced at the statue and then at Xander again, and Xander just nodded. "I'm not sure why...I mean, sad because I miss _Spike_ , but...this isn't really him. It's like...what he was. I don't know why that makes me sad."

"I'm not mad, Dawnie. It makes me a little sad, too. It's okay." Xander carefully smoothed the silky black-grey of the charred wood, thinking about William and about Dru. _*She said she saw his soul - that it was burning bright. Effulgent. Burning right out of you, love.*_ It seemed important, somehow, that the burned part be a part of the whole - that it be just as beautiful. Because Spike, in the _seeing_ , did burn. "I think I'll be done in a day or two," he added, and Dawn walked over to the corner where the twisted roots and smooth trunk of a piece of silvery driftwood lay.

"Do you know what's next?" she asked, stroking it, and Xander nodded.

"Yeah. Next is...when he was turned."

Dawn's eyes got wide, but she nodded slowly in return, looking at the driftwood with her head a little to one side. "That'll be...kinda scary."

"Yeah, I think so too," Xander agreed, and went back to his sanding.

 

By mid-August he had three pieces finished and a fourth started, and Dawn was starting to complain that he never left the studio - that he looked pale and didn't talk to her anymore. Xander objected that he _did_ leave - he patrolled with Oz and Derio at night - took his turn at shopping for groceries and randomly drove around the city, looking for wood for his next project.

"But that's _all_ you do, Xander! You don't - go to the movies or come shopping with me if I ask or - or go to the clubs with Oz and Derio! You just...do _this_." Dawn gestured angrily at the statues and the one that Xander had just begun - a figure stretching up, face turned to the sky, another figure nestled in its arms, but also _part_ of it. The demon and William, the souls. Xander stopped with one hand upraised, holding a mallet, chisel in the other braced against the wood. A cedar tree trunk, and he'd planned it so the red core would show through in places - the red was the demon.

"I just...need to do these, Dawn," he said finally, not knowing what _else_ to say. There was _*hurt fear sad love brother love*_ from her, and Xander slowly put the chisel and mallet down. "Dawn, I...I just…. Spike -"

"I _know_ you miss him, Xander but - but you can't just _hide!_ We _all_ miss him."

Xander stared at her - reached up and rubbed at the empty socket, because his head was starting to hurt. He didn't wear the patch inside anymore. "It's not the same, Dawn," he said quietly, and she opened her mouth to say something else - turned abruptly and walked out.

After a moment Xander picked up the mallet and chisel again and made another cut, then slowly set the tools aside. He looked at the rough shape in front of him and then got up, restless suddenly, to pace around the studio. He went to the finished pieces, hiding under their draping of old sheets - pulled the sheet off the last one. Spike killing the Slayer in China. It was a figure frozen in motion - a twisting, whirling shape that somehow danced. One arm back, the other extended, fingers open. Turned at the waist so that the torso was at ninety degrees from the feet. One leg bent, as if preparing to leap, one pushing off, elongated, the muscles sharply defined. Sense-memory of long hair curling into his eyes and across his neck, so the figure had that, as well, fanning over its shoulders. Xander ran his hands slowly over the sleek lines of it - over shoulder and hip and thigh - over the clean, curving line of a buttock.   
Seeing Spike in his mind, fighting - seeing the graceful, vicious dance never failed to make Xander's heart pound.

_*Spike, Spike...so beautiful when you fought...you loved it, and you were like - like the ocean. Like a bird...God, loved to watch you. Loved to see your power and know I could have it in my hands - I could surrender to it or I could master it...you'd let me own you - possess you - move you like a doll but all the time...all the time...I knew you were the stronger one - I knew the power that was in you and you let me….*_ Xander shuddered, eye closed, leaning against the oiled flank of the figure, his hand tight on the silky-smooth bulge of a calf. Images flooding him, of Spike - up on the mountain, running through the night. Lying under him, that body of steel cable and bone flexing to his will. Of Spike bending _Xander_ to his design, hands and mouth and tongue and teeth making Xander his willing slave.

_*Oh fuck...fuck....*_ Xander pulled away with a jerk, his body tingling with desire and frustration, his erection uncomfortable and desperate. He went back to the new piece - picked up the mallet and chisel and tried to make his hands stop shaking.

Oz sidled in, leaning in the doorway for a moment before coming over and crouching down beside him. "Dawn's worried about you," he said, _*pack, love you, what is it, what can we do?*_

"I know." Xander put the tools down again - leaned his head into his hands and just sat there, unwilling to tell Oz the truth. Ashamed. _*Spike's alone. There's no one...and I'll wait, I can wait, I won't pretend he's here when he's not.*_ Knowing that was stupid but feeling...feeling that somehow he would be indulging himself, when Spike.... When Spike might be in torment - in pain. After a few moments Oz's arms came around him and he turned and burrowed into the warmth and almond-musk-wolf scent. Clutched fiercely at the smaller man, trembling.

_*Oz, I...can't say it...can't tell her...it's like somebody hacked part of me away - like somebody cut my legs off and every day she's asking me to take her dancing. I have to do this, I have to have some part of him here...under my hands, I **have** to, I just… **can't** , I can't stop, Oz.*_

_*I know, I know...I'll talk to her. It's all right, Xander. Come to us, let us help. You're...pulling away, again.*_

"I know," Xander whispered. He sniffed - took a shuddery breath. "I _know_ , it's just...I _hate_ it. I can't stand him not being here, and..... When I do this it's like...it's like I'm touching him again. For just a little while. Oz -" _*Miss him, miss him, miss him, I can't stand this, please….*_

_*Shhh...shhh...it's all right. Come on. Come upstairs.*_ Oz got him up - out of the studio. It was dark outside and Xander realized he had no idea what time it was. It had been light when he'd gone in. Dawn was on the computer, typing rapidly and scowling and _*sister love scared*_ in the link - the feeling that she was talking to Tara, because 'sister' for Buffy was totally different.

Upstairs there were candles burning, as always, and the scents of bay and rose and citrus, lemon oil and cloves were heavy in the air. Derio came out of the music room, loose cotton pants and his dreads still dripping a little water down his chest from a recent bath.

_*Xander? What is it? It's all right, it's all right, family, pack...love you....*_

Xander couldn't answer him - couldn't make his brain work well enough to form words. Just struggled for a moment and then let it go - let the link flood with what he was feeling. _*Anger, pain, frustration, fear, anger, anger, lonely lonely lonely **want** him, want him, miss him, Spike, Spike....*_ They were in Oz and Derio's room now, on the bed, and Oz was holding him and Xander could feel his throat getting tighter and tighter - his chest hitching as he fought for breath. _*It's the only way I can touch him, the only way...not so alone...I'm sorry, I'm sorry -*_

The dam of misery that the carving had built broke suddenly and he curled into Oz and cried - harsh, racking sobs that _hurt_ , but didn't hurt enough. He wanted - _needed_ \- so much more, and Derio was on the bed, too, getting behind him and holding him tight and Oz's hand on his back, mouth on his cheek, on his temple, kissing and whispering and telling him it was _all right, all right, Xander, it's all right._ But it wasn't and Xander cried until he was coughing - until his head was pounding and the empty socket was weeping thready tears. Derio got a warm towel from the bathroom and he gratefully mopped himself up - sat there hunched and exhausted and still so damn _sad_.

Oz maneuvered him with deft touches onto his feet and out of his clothes - got him into the middle of the bed and then he was surrounded by the wolves - blanketed by their heat and the weight of them, by the wolf-chant in the link and by Derio's hand on his hip, slowly stroking, and Oz's in his hair, soothing him until his headache gradually eased and he fell asleep.

He woke with a start hours later. A lone candle guttered on the dresser, and the house was silent and still. He could hear the faint sounds of the water in the Duwamish - the distant, echoing honk of a tanker churning towards open water. The ever-present wind that softly rang Tara's wind-chimes, and made the limbs of the chestnut in the yard sigh and rustle. No rain, but the sharp scent of ozone and the sea, and there would be rain by morning. Derio was tight against him, leg over his and arm over his ribs, and Oz was half over him as well; his face pushed into Xander's neck, his arm across Xander's waist and on Derio's hip.

Xander lay there, slowing his breathing - trying to remember the dream that had woken him. Because it _had_ been a dream.... The details were hazy, but the feeling remained. Spike, holding him - Spike kissing him and touching him, and Xander's body _ached_ \- ached with desire too-long denied - a need that seemed to grow stronger every week despite Jack's magic. He _wanted_ , and he couldn't have, and he trembled with the wanting. He was painfully hard, his erection trapped under Oz's hip. He began, slowly, to disentangle himself - to get _away_ , and Oz's head lifted sharply, his eyes luminous and wide in the dim, golden light.

"Xander?" _*What, what is it?*_

"Let me up," Xander whispered, hurting and desperate and somehow _ashamed_ , but Oz stopped him, hand on his cheek.

"Why? Xander -" _*It's all right. I know, I know... Let me help. Let me help you. Love you….*_

_*No - Oz, I'm not - Oz, I can't -*_

_*Yes you can. It's all right. Just...flesh, isn't it? Nothing you haven't shared before...please, Xander, it's all right.*_

Xander _wanted_ it; the physicality he no longer had with Spike was as hurtful as the closed-off link; the empty place in his mind where Spike always had been, whispering and laughing and loving him. _*Hurts, it hurts -*_

_*I know...it's all right...just lonely, and we're here, we're here, Xander. Pack, pack, love you.*_

_*Love you,*_ sleepy echo from Derio and a slow caress of his hand and Xander gave in and let them. He lay shivering under their touches, under soft kisses and lightly scratching nails and teeth that never broke the skin. Slowly turning and touching them back, tentatively at first and then greedily - desperately - so starved for skin-on-skin he felt almost sick with it. Harsh breaths, gasping for air, slickness of tongue and lips on his body, slickness of arousal and the taste of Oz and Derio in his mouth; salty-sweet, pepper and lemon and almonds. He moaned softly, spread wide under them, drinking their touch as thirstily as a desert plant and Oz, fingers deft and clever and _*all right, is this all right? Will you let me, Xander, let me, querido….*_

And then Oz was pushing slowly in, heat and pulsing heartbeat that was so different - so alien - and Derio pushing belly to belly, his hands sliding over both of them, his mouth on Xander's. The link wide-open, full of love and comfort and want, full of the bonds of the family - the _pack_ \- that were like the most insubstantial of spider webs, but would never, ever break. Xander panted and groaned and clutched at them - cried wordlessly into Derio's shoulder when Oz moved harder - faster. Shuddered at the feeling of orgasm moving through the link - through the three of them - impossible to tell where it started or ended, and who was first, who was last. Afterwards he felt lighter then he had in days, and he slept dreamlessly between the wolves, secure in his family. But he woke to guilt, and lay there in the tangled limbs and sheets for a long time, trying to puzzle it out.

_*Spike...I'm sorry. It's no excuse, being lonely. Should never...not without you. You're alone...Spike, Spike...forgive me, love….*_

 

 

_____________________  
 _querido_ \- beloved


	33. Homecoming

The phone was ringing and Xander groped for it, his heart pounding and his hands sweating already. _*Three in the damn morning, can **only** be bad news -*_ "Hello?" he croaked, and distantly, he could hear the phone in Oz's room ringing, too. _*Oh, God, **what**?*_

"Xander? Xander, is that you?" A reedy voice - static-riddled and tired sounding, and Xander propped himself up on one elbow, trying to figure out who it was. Plummy 'Giles' sort of accent.

"Yeah? Who -"

"Oh, Xander, it's Aunt Portia!" Static drowned out the next words, and then her voice came back, loud and strong and Xander winced. "...seven pounds and four ounces, tiny thing!"

"What? A-aunt Portia -" _*Drake's Aunt! Right...what in hell?*_ "There was some static on the line, what did you say?"

"I _said_ -" Portia bellowed - and a woman who'd worked in the sun and wind of Egypt and the Sudan for forty years, directing hired help to dig up the desert could really _bellow_. Xander almost dropped the phone. "Anya's had her baby! A girl, seven pounds and four ounces, two weeks late!"

"Oh. _Oh!_ Oh, that's great, that's - congratulations! Is Anya okay? Is -"

"She's fine!" Portia continued at the top of her lungs and Xander glanced up to see Dawn in the doorway, eyes half-shut and her own phone to her ear and _*Anya's had her baby,*_ in the link from a muddled-sounding Oz.

"They've named the poor thing Alice Magdalena Sunny - Sunny for Sunnydale and all her good friends there, Anya says. Daft thing. D'ya hear me, Xander?"

"I hear you, Aunt Portia! That's - that's great, tell Anya we love her and - and to call us soon -" He could hear Dawn telling someone to email a picture and then Portia had to 'ring off and call the twins, somewhere in Malaysia, should be awake -' and the phone went dead. There was a thump and then Oz was in the doorway as well, grinning sleepily, leaning against Derio.

"Who'd you get?" Oz asked.

"Portia," Xander said, wincing and rubbing his ear. "Who'd _you_ get?"

"Grandpa Arthur. He was babbling. Dawn?"

"Huh?" Dawn blinked and jerked her head up, looking dazed. "Oh - I got that cousin - the one that was here before? Tad. Or Tod...some - ahhhhhh - thing." Dawn yawned hugely and shut her eyes.

"Jar of moonshine in the kitchen from that guy with the guitars," Oz said thoughtfully, and Dawn's eyes popped open.

"A toast to Alice -?" Xander paused, trying to remember.

"Magdalena," Derio mumbled, rubbing his chin through Oz's tangled shock of purple hair.

" _Sunny_ ," Dawn said, and they all looked at each other for a few seconds and then started to laugh.

"I'll get the glasses," Xander said, shoving back the covers. The moonshine was as sharp and biting as liquid fire and Dawn coughed for two whole minutes. But the baby was wished long life and much happiness on the first day of September.

 

November was a cold and windy month - a blustery month, Oz said, and Xander liked that word - blustery. He spent most of it carving and wood-scouting, and the eight statues in the studio were like a strange garden that he wandered through. Sometimes by sunlight but more often by candle-light; unless he was working and then he sweated in the glare of a halogen light. His single eye, he had discovered, got strained in dim light more quickly then two ever had.

When he was too stiff to carve, and the wolves were busy - and Dawn was in class or growling at him from her desk, surrounded by mounds of books and papers - he'd go for long walks all along the edge of the Duwamish, or all over Downtown or Point Defiance. A couple of times, unable to sleep, he'd taken the first ferry up to Victoria and walked around on Canadian soil for a day, some tiny part of himself marveling at the city-boy that now had a need for earth and open sky, water and wind and no other people. The wolves' sensibilities creeping in maybe, or that night on Mt. Rainer, that came back to him often in his dreams. Making the hyena restless until he found a bit of open space and could breathe free. The ache of missing Spike seemed less, out there - as if the hyena could cope with it better, or transform it.

Remembering...didn't hurt as much. So he indulged himself and came home in the dark, wind-burned and chilly, his mind eager to get back to his carving but his body, sometimes, too tired.

"You're _thin_ , Xander," Derio said, frowning at him - standing behind him in the bathroom while he shaved. Looking critically at the ripple of rib-cage and the sharp wing of shoulder-blade and hip-bone above the towel. "You're _too_ thin."

"I'm all right," Xander said, rinsing the razor out and putting it away - washing his face off and looking in the mirror, too - seeing nothing different but the socket of his eye and the length of his hair, that was past his shoulder-blades now and gleaming with dark-red highlights from all the sun he was getting. No tan on his face because Dawn had drilled sunblock into him all summer and it was habit, now, plus it helped with the chapping wind that blew in and in off the sea.

"You're not. Xander - c'mon down and have some breakfast. Oz made French toast and bacon, even." Breakfast at one in the afternoon, but that was how this household worked.

"Sure," Xander said, smiling - dressing and cinching his belt down tight, layering a tee under a thermal under a flannel because he _was_ chilly, sitting in the studio. Putting on the fluffy, wooly socks Dawn had got that he had to use the shop-vac on, because they tended to attract every twist and flake of wood off the floor.

The kitchen was steamy with tea and coffee and bacon-grease - good smells and good flavors, but Xander barely finished one piece of toast and only nibbled at the bacon, not as hungry as he'd thought. Derio watched him, hawk-like and _*Xander, please, it's good, c'mon,*_ in the link. Dawn was half-hidden behind a textbook and Oz ate slowly, one hand rubbing up and down Derio's thigh, his own eyes flickering from Xander's plate to his face again and again, until Xander finally stood up, pushing his chair back harder then he intended.

"I'm just not _hungry_ right now, okay?" he snapped, and Dawn's head came up as if on a string and her eyes fixed on him, narrow and _angry_.

"Are you _ever_ hungry? That's not going to _help_ , Xander!"

"Jesus, what the fuck? I'm not gonna shove food down my throat if I don't want it, Dawn." Xander took his plate to the trash and scraped it clean - stuck plate and fork in the sink and retrieved his coffee-cup. It was only lukewarm now and he grimaced and dumped it, not wanting it. _*Just want some water, just want - some fresh air, gonna go for a walk -*_

"Stay in today," Oz said, just _there_ next to him, faded-violet hair contrasting oddly with his eyes, his skin porcelain-fine and nearly translucent in the mellowing mid-afternoon light. "Come watch a movie with us - we were gonna revisit the wonderful world of Willy Wonka." Oz grinned, and Xander had to smile back - had the sudden urge to hug the werewolf so he did. The hug just… _lasted_ , and after awhile they were on the fold-out couch, the four of them in a puppy-heap of plaid throws and pillows, cheering on Charlie and Grandpa and yelling out Veruca Salt's whiney _'Daddy, I want -!'_ lines along with her.

_*Better than a walk,*_ Oz thought, hugging him a little closer.

_*Yeah, okay...better,*_ Xander thought, and _*love brothers love love,*_ like a ray of warming sunlight from Dawn. He ended up falling asleep and woke to Derio curled, wolf-form, at his back, keeping him warm. Oz in the kitchen, cooking again, Dawn off to class and he ate this time. Not enough for Derio but _enough_. His fingers were twitchy, though, and he was in the studio until patrol-time. That night, as he did about every ten nights, he went to bed with the wolves, and shuddered and writhed guiltily - desperately - under their coaxing, gentle hands.

 

Six years gone for Spike, seven coming fast-but-not-fast-enough. Xander stood staring at the calendar in the kitchen, where December sixteenth was circled in thick, bright red. _*Will it be midnight of the fifteenth or midnight the sixteenth? Dawn or - dusk? When, when, when...and **where**? Not the Hellmouth, it's gone, so.... Damnit, Jack, didn't tell us enough.*_ Five days until Spike came home. Five days until this was all _over_ , and Xander's nerves were fraying fast - his hands were stiff and sore from clutching carving knife or sandpaper, and the wolves were _both_ on edge. Dawn was nervous, too, but she had finals as well as Spike coming home and had resorted to headphones and flannel pajamas in an effort to both comfort and distract herself.

Oz and Derio had gone out early on some sort of elusive equipment-finding trawl through the pawn shops of Seattle and Xander was contemplating going out and getting dim sum - there was a place not six blocks away - when the sound of a vehicle pulling up outside made him go to the front door. A pale blue sedan was parked there, with a U-Haul trailer behind it and - _Tara_ getting out of the driver's side, stretching hard, Cordy getting out of the passenger side, waving and smiling. Xander darted outside and jogged down the walk, feeling a grin stretching his mouth wide.

"Tara? What are - what's going on?" Xander asked, meeting her at the hood of the car and grabbing her into a hard hug.

"Hey, Xander -" Tara hugged back - smiled up at him, her blonde hair wisping into her face from a messy ponytail. "I just... I'm m-moving back." Xander stared at her and then he _hugged_ her, lifting her off her feet and spinning her around, laughing.

"You _are?_ Is everything okay? Did Angel do something? God - I'm so glad!" He finally put her down, reluctant to let go, _*love you brother family*_ rippling out from Tara, warm and sweet.

_*Oz! Derio, Tara's back, she's back home!*_

_*What? Why? We're coming -*_ Oz, faint but _there_ , and Xander laughed.

"The wolves are coming. Tell me what the deal is." Tara looked nervous and Xander squeezed her shoulder a little.

"The deal is there's luggage," Cordy interrupted, straightening up with Connor in her arms and a carry-all slung over her shoulder.

"Uncle Xander, Uncle Xander!" Connor was wiggling - struggling - and Xander held out his hands, taking him from Cordy and swinging him around before setting him on his feet. Connor grabbed his legs and hugged. "Missed you! We drove all night! Wanna drink - Uncle Xander, we drove all night!"

"You did?" Xander asked, stroking the bright blond head and looking at Cordelia, who looked - tired. She nodded and turned back to the car, saying something quietly to Tara, who was pulling a bag out of the back seat.

"We did! And Auntie Tara sang songs about woods and stuff and me an' mommy played Slug-bug an' we ate Jack in the Box _two times!_ " Connor was leaning back now, fists in Xander's pant-legs, swinging wildly as he chattered. Xander leaned away a little, bracing himself, smiling down at Connor and swiveling his leg a little so Connor got maximum swing.

"Wow! Two times! Better go tell Auntie Dawn."

"Auntie _Dawn's_ here?"

"Of course she's here, she lives here!" Cordy swooped down and grabbed Connor, kissing his neck noisily and Connor shrieked and squirmed away - ran up the walk and up the steps, yelling for Dawn.

"So what's going on, ladies?" Xander asked quietly, taking a bulging string bag from Tara's hands and another from Cordy.

"Lots of stuff. Can we - let's talk inside, okay? Are O-oz and Derio almost here?" _*Brother*_ still in the link, but worry too, and a little fear, and Xander nodded slowly.

"Okay, sure, inside. The wolves...." _*Where?*_

_*Ten minutes - oops! Didn't want that drink, anyway. Eight minutes.*_ Mental laughter and a cranberry juice stain on the atrocious upholstery of the van.

Xander grinned at Tara. "They sacrificed juice for you. They're almost here."

"What?" But Tara was laughing, because it just felt _good_ , to be standing there - family again, almost perfect. He shouldered the bags and Tara pulled a pet-carrier out of the car, cooing softly to Miss Kitty, who looked pissed off.

"Hey, Miss Kitty," Xander said, and she said _'mwuuuur'_ in the most pitiful tone imaginable. "Sinclair's missed you," he added, looking straight at Tara. She nodded sadly and they went inside, tension layering on tension because why would _Tara_ be afraid?

Connor was squealing, on his back on the couch with Dawn alternately tickling and squashing him. "Help! Uncle Xander, help!" Connor yelped, breathless, and Xander swung the bags down, ushering Tara and Cordy towards the kitchen.

"Nope! I'm skeered of Auntie Dawn!" Dawn growled and pounced again and Connor rolled of the couch, he was laughing so hard.

"If he pees his pants, you have to clean him up!" Cordy yelled, then walked into the kitchen with an exclamation of pleasure. "Oh! Wow, it really looks _nice!_ Where's Tara's room? She's talked our ears off about the herb room."

"Here -" Tara showed off her still-room, her hands touching lightly at bowls and plants and the many-drawered cabinets Xander had made for her, the link settling and her whole self becoming more relaxed. More… _*at home. She's home.*_ And that felt so good.

 

"So - what's he going to do?" Xander asked, slowly eating a last mouthful of rice, watching Cordy wipe Connor's face off. They'd gotten dim sum, after all, and everyone had crowded around the big kitchen table, eating and talking - catching up. Listening to Cordelia's story about L.A. and a law firm called Wolfram and Hart, and the lengths they were going to to get Angel to join them. Or to kill him.

"He...." Cordelia stopped wiping - kissed Connor on the nose and he blinked sleepily back at her, smiling. "I don't know. He's running Wes and Fred ragged, researching, trying to find out - anything. And he and Gunn are all over the city, every night, trying to make deals. To find...."

"Allies?" Oz asked softly, and Cordy nodded. The Sidhe gift, that allowed her the visions without the pain showed through more clearly when she was tired. A certain angularity to her features that hadn't been there before. A certain fey aura that Xander didn't need the _seeing_ to detect. Her eyes had a moon-beam sheen to them in the candle-lit room, and she moved with a fluidity that was beautiful to see. But there were still tiny lines of stress around her eyes, and her knuckles were chapped from washing up after Connor.

"Yeah. I wanted to ask...do you think Mr. Giles would help? Do you think...the Council?"

"Course they will," Dawn said, and there was steel in her voice. "The Pembrokes are different then all those old bastards that attacked Buffy. We'll call 'em right now - Giles is always up." Dawn was up and out of her seat, grabbing her cell of the charger and Cordy just grinned.

"I knew there was a reason I liked you better than Buffy," she said. Connor wiggled out of his chair and trotted over to Derio, who scooted back and held his hands when they went straight for the winking beads and trinkets in his dreads. He made Connor clap his hands and sock himself in the chin, light as a feather, while Connor giggled and struggled.

"Uncle Der-o, be the wolf! Wanna play with the wolf! Please please _please_ Uncle Der-o?"

"What? You're not _scared_ of the wolf?" Derio asked, and Connor shook his head hard.

"No! _Please?_ "

"Dawn's right," Xander said, watching Oz catch Connor up and hug him while Derio stepped into the laundry room to strip. "The Pembroke's are...really cool. I'm sure they can help."

Cordy sighed, her chin on her fist, watching Connor with an almost desperate gaze. "You know - when I first met Angel he was just - this gorgeous guy, you know? This _different_ guy. And all he saw was Buffy and...all I saw was him." Cordy smiled a little - laughed softly as Derio trotted out of the laundry room, wolf-form, and Connor squealed in excitement and slithered out of Oz's arms, running full-tilt into the wolf. Derio sat down and let Connor - whose head came just to his shoulder - hug him and step on his paws. After a moment Derio stood up again with Connor triumphantly astride his back.

"Hold on tight, Connor - hold on to his fur!" Cordy called, and Connor was grinning like a jack-o-lantern, eyes locked on Derio's ears.

"I'm riding him! I'm riding the wolf! Mommy, look! Uncle Xander, look! I'm riding the wolf!"

"We see you, baby boy," Cordy called, as Oz opened the kitchen door and Derio strode serenely out into the back yard, Oz following behind and Connor bouncing now, kicking his heels.

_*Expect a looong massage, later,*_ Derio thought, and Oz laughed, pulling gently on the heavy, fringed tail.

"Anya, that's great but I need to talk to _Giles_ , okay?" Dawn walked through, snagging a fortune cookie, rolling her eyes. Anya always had baby news - more than even the most tolerant of baby-lovers could absorb, usually, and Xander grinned in sympathy and then turned back to Cordelia, who was slowly stacking plates and gathering silverware together.

"Yeah, I get that you...had a crush, Cordy," Xander said, stacking empty containers, and Cordy shook her head slowly.

"It wasn't so much a crush as...I just wanted to _have_ something, you know? Somebody. I mean - I was Queen C and I had my...court, but...I didn't really _have_ anybody - not anybody that cared about me more than they cared about my dad's money. " Cordelia stood up and carried the dishes to the sink - got some water running and Xander cleared the rest of the table, stuffing the little white and red boxes into the big paper bag they'd come in and shoving it all in the trash - going over with cups and glasses and showing Cordelia where the dish soap was.

"And then there was _you_ -" Cordy looked over at him and smiled - the old smile, that she'd given him once or twice when they were dating. That fond and happy smile that, once upon a time, Xander had lived and died for. That now only reminded him of the same smile on Spike's face, and made his heart twist painfully in his chest. "I really screwed that up, Xander," Cordelia said softly, and Xander stared at her in surprise. "I didn't realize - until it was way too late - how special you were. How special you made me _feel_."

Xander didn't know what to say to that - leaned over and kissed her cheek, softly, smelling witch-hazel and saffron and rosemary. "Always be special to me, Cordy," he said, low, and Cordy sniffed and smiled - nodded her head and stuck the forks and knives into the soapy, hot water in the sink.

"Yeah. And now - Angel is...that. Angel is the one that makes me feel...so special and _Connor_.... God, Xander - if anything happens to Connor I don't - I don't know -"

"Shhhh - Cordy, hey -" Xander grabbed her and hugged her hard, and for a moment Cordelia just clung to him, shuddering.

"Cordy, I've got Giles on the phone - come on and tell him what you told us!" Dawn called from the other room and Cordelia slowly pulled away - took the dish-towel off Xander's shoulder and dried her hands.

"Thanks, Xander. I -"

"Yeah, I know. Go on," Xander said. He wiped the tears off her cheeks with the towel and shooed her towards the living room and she took a deep breath and lifted her chin - so much _herself_ \- and strode into the living room.

"Giles! Have I got a story to tell you..." Xander smiled after her, and found the dishrag, and started washing.

 

"So why'd you _really_ come home, Tara?" Cordelia and Connor were tucked snugly into the spare room, and Dawn was passed out on her books downstairs. Xander and the wolves had got the last of Tara's things upstairs and now they were all piled on the bed, worshipful court at their Queen's feet. The cats were running in and out, still a little skittish of each other.

Tara smiled tiredly at them and ran a finger down Xander's arm to his hand - curled her hand into his. "You know I really… _like_ Fred. I think I - _love_ her." She glanced up at them, curtain of blonde hair and quickly lowered eyes and Xander squeezed her hand encouragingly.

"Yeah? That's - isn't that of the good?"

"It's good," Tara said, then took a deep breath. "But...I don't _love_ her, not like...." _Like Willow_ , all unspoken. "And I don't like living in L.A. I really m-miss you guys." There was a moment's silence and then Xander was hugging her, and Derio was trying to, and Tara was laughing a little, confused. "What?"

"I'm sorry Tara but...we're glad," Oz said, getting his own hug.

"Missed you," Xander confirmed, not letting go. "We wanted you _home_. Is it - awful?"

Tara was smiling - bright smile and wet eyes, and she hugged them all back fiercely. "No - it's not awful. And I wanted to be here for - for when Spike comes home," she finished softly, and there were small noises of agreement from all of them.

_*Family now, pack pack pack, all good, love you all, love you,*_ Xander thought, and he felt - for the first time in that long and awful year - as if things were finally going to be all right.

 

The sixteenth came - and passed - and Xander hadn't eaten, hadn't slept. The whole household was silent - frozen - just waiting. The link was a wordless ache, and Dawn - finals done - spent her time going from the wolves to Tara to Xander, doing her best to comfort and begging, silently, for comfort of her own. The _knowing_ was over them all, and Derio was pale, with dark circles under his eyes and he never stopped pacing, pacing, pacing.

_*What is it, what's coming, where **is** he? Spike, Spike, Spike....*_

The constant thrum and friction of whatever was stirring was wearing them _all_ down, and Xander knew if something didn't happen soon he was going to snap. And something _was_ stirring - he could _feel_ it - they all could. He could feel the hyena waiting; so tense and ready that it _hurt_. The eighteenth came and then ticked over midnight into the nineteenth and suddenly Derio stopped, lifting his head.

A storm had been working its way inland all day and now it broke over them; rain and wind and thunder - lightning blue-white and dazzling. The few lights they had on went _off_ , between one shock of thunder and the next and the candle-glow was eerie and confining - threatening. Sinclair was yowling like a lost soul - like a banshee - and Miss Kitty was under the couch.

"Dawn -" Xander said, holding out his hand and she hurried to him - got behind him when he pushed and the wolves were already half-changed, circling restlessly. Tara was chanting softly, pouring power into the wards and they sparked up bright all around the house - will-o'-the-wisp glimmer around every door and window - around the whole foundation, new and old.

"It's close, it's close, it's -" _*Not Jack, not Scavenger, what, what-?*_ Derio whined, wolfish bewilderment and the wind gusted; rain like pebbles battering the house. And something else, flying at the front door, solid weight like a bird or a cat. It clung there, outlined in the ward-fire - strangely elongated and making a hissing noise as tiny fists battered at the screen.

_*Jesus, do I -?*_

_*Let it in, it's all right, it's -*_ Derio was rigid, watching it, and Xander moved slowly to the front door and opened it - cracked the screen. The creature ducked around and flew inside, chittering. It circled the room once and then perched on top of the tallest bookcase, looking down at them. Obviously ill at ease and soaking wet, besides. Sinclair spat, hissing furiously, and fled upstairs. They all just stared blankly for a moment, and then Tara stood up slowly, her hands out.

"You're welcome here. We won't harm you. Do you - h-have a m-message for us?" The creature - long and skinny, a hairless cat with a disturbingly human face - launched itself from the bookcase and flew on tissue-thin wings straight at Tara. Inches from her it pulled up and hovered, and Xander realized that it was female, and had a tail and talons on its primate-looking hands. It was just barely twelve inches, over all, but the gauzy wings were twice that, nearly transparent and pulsing with veins.

"She sends, She sends, She, She, She!" the thing lisped, and Tara nodded slowly.

"What - what is the message?" Tara asked, voice impossibly quiet - almost drowned in the raging storm that continued to batter at them.

_*She? Does it - she - mean the Queen? Or the - the other one or - where the fuck is **Spike**?*_

_*Calm, calm, just a messenger, just a - homing pigeon,*_ Oz said, and Xander clenched his fists and nodded. Dawn was sketching surreptitiously in a notebook, her eyes enormous, and Derio was crouching beside her, looking ready to spring. Xander felt Oz's hand in the small of his back and he tried to just… _wait._

"Scavenger comes - he has the news - do what he says - two days! Two days." The creature flicked up and then down and then sideways, like a hovering dragonfly and Tara nodded slowly.

"He'll tell us - in two days - what to do? For...Spike?"

" _Sssssspiiiiiiiiike._...." the thing hissed, its face twisting in what might be a smile or a snarl and Xander felt his heart lurch - his stomach drop. "Yesyesyes. Now there is cake. Scavenger said _cake_."

"Yes, there's cake," Tara said faintly, and got up and moved slowly to the kitchen. The creature - the fairy? - followed her, humming around her head.

"What - the _fuck_ \- is going on?" Xander couldn't catch his breath - couldn't actually _see_ , the hyena was so enraged. Everything was a grey-washed tunnel, with _*pack pack pack*_ the only thing that made sense. He wanted to rip throats and bellies open wide until he found _*mate mate mine Spike mine mine **mine**!*_

"Xander -" Oz's hands on him - around him - and he turned and buried his face in the familiar scent and taste of the wolf; felt Derio's heat and weight behind him, and then Dawn crowding close as well.

"Fuckin' kill him, kill Jack, what the _fuck_ -" He didn't think he could survive two more days without _knowing_. Tara came back into the room, holding a paper towel to her finger. The fairy had a lump of pound-cake in its front - paws? It was eating hungrily and the hyena smelled _blood_ , and roared.

"It's okay! Xander, it's okay -" Tara was holding his arm hard, other hand to his face, and Xander stared at her - at the creature, who was baring its teeth. "It's how you do it. It's just a drop of blood, it's okay," Tara said, trying to sooth him. He glared at the creature, who made a gruesome face back, huge eyes like amber lamps and long, predator-sharp teeth.

"What's going on, you?" he snapped.

The fairy swallowed the last of the blood-stained cake - licked itself, too catlike to be real. " _War_ , it's _war_ , Ssspike'sss," it hissed, and then it was gone, flitting out the screen door and seeming to take the storm with it. The rain settled to the usual relentless drum - the thunder rattled rapidly away and they all slumped to the floor, exhausted - heartsick.

"Sounds like Spike," Oz said, shaky voice - shaky joke - and it was laugh or cry. They laughed.

 

Two days, Tara had pointed out, was the Solstice night and that seemed to make everything worse. The longest night of the year - magic and otherness and _secrets_ \- and when a shadow with red-glowing eyes appeared at the door Xander _pounced_ , snatching Scavenger inside and slamming him into a wall. The pooka snarled, aspect shifting, and Xander slammed him back again - rapped his head into the wall and _growled_ , and Oz and Derio were right there behind him.

"What the _fuck_ is going on? Where's Spike? What has Jack _done?_ " he grated, and Scavenger sagged in his grip, not fighting. Not _standing_ , and Xander watched dispassionately as the pooka slumped, sliding down the wall. There was blood on his face - dirt, or soot - and a raveling bandage on his arm.

"It's war, Alex-an-der. The...pixie said, didn't she? War."

"I don't give a _fuck_ for your wars!" Xander crouched down and grabbed the raveling sweater Scavenger was wearing, jerking him close - letting the hyena rise up. Watching the shift of unease in the pooka's eyes with satisfaction. "Jack said Spike would come back - the same as he was - a year and a day! Where _is_ he? Jack _lied_."

"No - didn't lie. He came back." Scavenger held very, very still and Xander was aware, just barely, of Tara behind him, and Dawn - of a sword-point coming over his shoulder and coming to a stop in inch or so from Scavenger's face. The pooka hissed and tried to twist away from it - from the iron that hurt him - but Xander leaned on him, hard, making him be still.

"Where. The _fuck_. _**Is he**_."

"Ss-seelie Court! He's - in the Seelie Court. When - they let him go, out of hell, Jack was there, and the Queen. She wanted to - to see the one that hell had given up so much for and she - _wanted_ him. She t-told Jack he could come back to the Seelie Court if he got S-spike to come to her."

"He wouldn't stay there," Xander gasped out, his whole body singing as if he'd been hit - as if he'd fallen down a flight of stairs.

"No, he - he wouldn't, he didn't - Jack put a g-glamour on him. Said he was free of hell and l-like he was and that fulfilled his - pact so then - he -"

" _Shut up_ ," Xander choked out, and the pooka's mouth snapped shut, his eyes very wide. "Can he do that? Is - is that -"

"He can," a new voice said, and they all jerked - looked around wildly, searching. Another figure - much like Scavenger but thinner - _blond_ \- crouched in the doorway, leaning on the wards as Drusilla had leaned on the barrier before.

"Wing -" Scavenger moaned, and the other shot a look at him, eyes like blazing white fire.

"He can, he could, he did. Now they have him in the Wild Hunt, and tonight he consummates his marriage to the Queen. And the She has lost her consort, and the She...is at war."

"Say it again - explain it again!" Xander snapped, jerking Scavenger towards the point of the sword that - Xander finally realized - _Dawn_ was holding.

"The Queen of Air and Darkness had a king - and he fell in love with the Queen of the Seelie Court, and he made a bargain, and he was hers. But she lost interest and sent him back again and he - he has plotted and planned to get her back - to have her back." Scavenger's eyes flicked from sword-point to Xander's face, his skin ashen, his whole body trembling from the poisonous iron. "He thought she would take him back for _this_ \- for the easing of the tithe, but she's taking _another_ \- she's taking Spike, and she'll never want him again, she's giving him to her Court. And the She - wants her own back. Wants Jack back."

"How do I get _my_ own back? That's all I care about God _damnit_ , Scavenger -" The pooka held up a shaking hand, shivering hard as the sword eased closer yet and Derio snapped at him, wolfish fangs and jaws.

"Ride. Ride with me. North - to the Hunt. You'll see the Court - you'll see them all and you'll see _him_ , and you must take him and hold him and not let go, Alex-an-der, not let go no matter _what_ , do you understand? No matter _what_ is said, no matter what is done."

Xander stared at him - felt despair and anger welling up in him so high that he was close to just killing the pooka right there - not even sure if he _could_ , but he wanted to, oh God.

_*Xander, no, think -*_ Oz pushing something at him, image - image of Drusilla and her new companion - Drusilla leaning on the barrier and the wards flaring up around her.

_"You, mind your book and mind your heart and take the Slayer's skin when you're called to go riding. That's the only way you'll see your love again."_

_*She knew - she knew, she knew, God -*_ Xander stood up abruptly, pulling the pooka to his feet, pushing the sword-blade gently aside. "I know what I have to do, and you're taking me there. _Where_ are you taking me? They're going to meet us there -" he said, gesture back towards his family and Scavenger took a hard breath and nodded.

"It's north - north, the park by the Hill, by the grove of the dead -"

"Interlaken?" Derio asked, and the pooka nodded.

"Lay lines - power, there. She can ride out and ride in, and then he's hers. We have to _hurry_ , Alex-an-der."

"Yeah. Oz - you guys go! Get there and maybe - Tara -"

"I'll do what I can," Tara said, and turned and ran towards the still-room. Dawn was yanking on the old work-boots by the door and Oz had taken the sword and Xander suddenly turned and ran himself, pounding up the stairs.

"Wait -!" the pooka shouted, but Xander ignored him. _*Skin of the Slayer. His coat - Spike's coat. Has to be. God -*_ Xander stumbled into the bedroom and yanked open the closet door - pulled out the coat. He held it for one moment, the feel of it, the _scent_ of it flooding him with _*Spike mate mine family mine mine.*_ And then he pulled it on and _ran_ , down to the pooka and the night.

Scavenger was on the porch and he leaped to the yard as Xander came out - _changed_ , in a flurry of blackness and coal-red sparks and the horse that he became bowed down, foreleg bending - offering its back. Xander climbed on awkwardly - looked down to see the pale, blond Sidhe - Wing - looking up at him.

"You'll not fall off a pooka's back if he wants you to stay on. When you see your Spike, you must take and hold and not let go. And when he is himself again, cover him with that coat. Do not speak, do not falter. All rides on this, all hinges on this," the Sidhe said, hugging itself as if it were cold and Scavenger shifted, stamping.

" _Why?_ Why does it all hinge on - on _me_? And Spike?"

"Pacts have been broken. Things have shifted. If they fight - it will be a war the heavens have not seen for a hundred million years. The She will fight for it _all_ back. _Ride_ now! Scavenger, _run!_ "

Scavenger half-reared up and Xander saw Tara and Dawn and the wolves running to the van - getting in and the headlights flicking on. The pale Sidhe ran as well, towards the Duwamish and leapt and dove, transmuting as he went into something sleek and pale - seal, or whale, or snake, Xander couldn't tell.

And then Scavenger was running flat out, heading north, skimming water and earth as if they were nothing - muscles like iron under Xander's thighs and he bent down low, hands fisted tight in a mane of silk and smoke. The patch whipped away in the wind and he buried his face, Oz and Derio in the link, the string of beads burning his chest. Going to get Spike.

 

They stopped somewhere in dense woods; it was dark, and the storm had come muttering back while Scavenger ran, and Xander was lost. He slid stiffly down and the pooka shifted, human again, naked. He grabbed Xander's arm in a steel grip and pulled him down.

"They're coming. All along here. Hide, and let them pass by until you see Spike. He's on a white horse," Scavenger whispered, and then they simply waited. Long moments passed, and Xander felt his body trembling - his breath tightening in his chest. He chanted the wolf-chant softly softly in his head; his fingers on the beads and his eye open wide, trying to see in near-blackness. There was water somewhere nearby, moving lightly and quickly.

_*Safe? See him?*_ from Oz, and Xander shook his head.

_*No, I don't, Oz, God - I.... Wait - wait, there's -*_ He stared, straining his eye - shaped the _seeing_ -word with his lips and felt Scavenger's fingers, hot and dry, on his mouth.

"No, must not. They'll feel it. Just wait," Scavenger murmured and Xander subsided. There was a pale blue-green light coming from somewhere to the right of them, and as he watched Xander saw the shapes of horses slowly emerge from the blackness. Black horses and brown ones and grey, all sparkling like glass figures in a shop-window. The people on their backs were tall - thin - _beautiful_ , and Xander stared as they rode past, sending the images to the wolves.

_*God, the Queen, that's her -*_ Xander thought, as Scavenger stiffened beside him and a woman on the back of a dancing grey horse rode past. She was pale as snow, with long silver-white hair done up in braids and loops and falls. She was like ice and fire together and Xander felt...small. _Grubby._

_*No. Hero. Spike's Knight! His love and his life and his own, Xander - do you see him?*_ Oz, growling through the link and Xander blinked and looked again.

"Where _is_ he? I don't see him!" he whispered frantically to Scavenger and the pooka shot him a _look_ \- pointed with a shaking hand. A white horse - a man on its back. Black trousers and boots, a shimmering white shirt and a brocade coat like Jack's, blood red. And a fall of long, dark hair oiled into ringlets and held back by a band of silver and ruby. Another _Sidhe_.

"That's not -" Xander started, and then he _looked_ , and it was - it was. _*Spike! Spike, my God, that's - Spike!*_ "He can't hear me!"

"It's the glamour! Go, now!" Scavenger pushed him, hard, and Xander leaped up and _ran_ \- ran to the line of horses and Sidhe, to the still, pale figure on the white horse that rode as the others did - eyes only for the Queen. He reached up and grabbed fistfuls of leather and brocade and silk and _pulled_ , and with a small cry of surprise Spike toppled off the horse and onto him. Xander's breath was knocked out of him and he lay there, clutching Spike so hard it _hurt_ , gasping for air. He buried his face in Spike's neck, searching for something - anything. And found it.

_*Scar. That's the claim. Oh **God** , Spike - Spike, wake up!*_ Xander's breath whooped back into him and under the smells of horse and rain and mud and myrrh, he could smell _Spike_. Blood and cloves, and he felt tears in his eye.

"Spike?" he whispered, and Spike lifted his head.

"Oh, you do not _dare_ ," a cold voice said, and Xander looked up at the Queen of the Seelie Court and Spike _twisted_ , convulsing - _screaming_. And then he wasn't holding Spike anymore. He was holding a hot, heavy body - stink of sweat and cheap wine - of Aqua Velva.

_"You've done nothing but disappoint the both of us. Just one long string of regrets and sorrow. You're a sorry excuse for a son - for a man - for a human -"_ Xander shuddered in revulsion but hugged the man close - buried his face in the sour flesh of the joweled neck and hung on. A cough - a convulsive heave - and the body shivered and changed and _shrank._

_"Why'd you do it, Xander? Why'd you do it? I thought we were friends - I thought you loved me! You didn't even give me a chance - not a chance -"_

"Jesse, oh God -" Xander hugged the wiry body closer - sucked in boy-scent and soda-sweetness and tears.

_*Not him, it's not him, Xander - pack, pack, pack -*_ Oz's voice, whisper in his head and Xander shuddered - held on.

_*Hold fast, hold fast, we're coming, querido!*_ Another shuddering twist of the body in his arms and Xander smelled blood - blood and old wine and something musky-sharp and that drawling, hated voice.

_"What is it that you see **now** , sinner? What do you see? I see an empty heart - an empty house - an empty life. Forever's too long to ask of an angel, don't you think? Flawed and imperfect and **maimed** that you are -"_

" _Fuck_ you!" Xander gasped, teeth gritted and his hands like claws in the black coat of Caleb's priest-garb. But he held on tight as the man fought him - as iron hands scrabbled at his face. "You're not _him_ , you're _Spike_ and I'm not letting go!"

_"Let go, oh, let go, let go...."_ a new voice sighed, and the body he was holding cooled - thinned - became softly feminine and _Dru's_ dark hair foamed across his mouth - her legs twined with his and her scent of church incense and jasmine filled his nostrils. _"I've had him for a century and more - I **made** him, I chose him; I can **unmake** him, sweet little boy - kitten without claws...I **know** him, sweetling, like you **never** will...my poet, my sweet William -"_

"No, you gave him up! You left him and I took him and he's _mine!_ You hear me?" Xander crushed Drusilla to him - lifted his head and let the hyena roar its rage and terror. "He is mine! I chose him - I love him - I want him and I will _not_ let him go!" Then he let his face drop into cool, white flesh and bit, hard and deep. Drusilla screamed - writhed - shrank in his arms and suddenly Xander wasn't holding an animal or a human - he was holding _fire_ , that danced along his arms and face and burned like acid. He screamed, clutching it closer - felt a hand in his back pushing him and he staggered up and ran; stumbled and fell and rolled through wet leaves and mud and a crunching dead bush and suddenly into _water_. The fire hissed like a thousand snakes and his arms were empty. Gravel dug into his elbows and knees - into his shoulder and he scrabbled madly.

"Spike!" His hands found something in the darkness - ice-cold flesh. An arm - a shoulder - and Xander was grabbing Spike and hauling him up - stumbling backwards and falling onto the gravel and dirt edge of the stream, falling on his butt and almost knocking the wind out of himself again. He twisted, Spike like a lifeless doll in his arms as he fought to get the duster off. Hands were at his shoulders, suddenly - hands and someone yanking - pulling - and the duster slithered free and Xander flung it over Spike. Over a Spike who was naked and still, and far too thin - far too cold.

"Spike, Spike, wake up, love, please, Spike -" Xander pulled him closer yet, tucking the duster around Spike's ribs and shoulders - aware of Oz and Derio, of Tara and Dawn crouching not far away. And Scavenger, half in the water, mud on his hands, his eyes like scarlet fire. Light was coming closer - cold and white-blue, and the Queen sat there, astride her horse. Shining like a star or a firefly, staring down at him with her lips drawn back in a snarl. Xander looked back at Spike - at the mud on his face and the leaves tangled in the impossible, knotted hair. He gently stroked Spike's face - his lips - leaned down and kissed him, tasting iron and water and something like lemon, and nothing else.

"Spike -" he whispered. There was a sudden shift under his hands - a heaving of ribs and belly, and Spike's eyes opened wide, staring at him. He lay there, utterly still; blinking once, slowly, when something fell onto his face. A tear, that landed on his cheek and wended away into the hair. "Love - love, it's me -" Xander whispered, and there was a tiny shiver - a tingle. And then a _flood_ \- sensation, emotion - pain and pleasure and horror and despair, slamming into the link and out again in seconds.

_*Xander -*_ like a distant echo. And then stronger. _*Xander. Love....*_ "Came b-back," Spike whispered, and Xander gathered him in as close as he could and just held on.


	34. Relearning

"Course you came back. I never - _Spike_ , God, missed you, missed you...." Xander felt Spike's arms come up around him, too weak and too slow and not _right_ and he kissed gently over Spike's thin face - kissed lips that were chapped and rough. He glared up at the Queen, heedless of the power that was around her like a swarm of glittering bees.

"What did you _do_ to him? Jack said he wouldn't be hurt - you _lied_ , you all lied -"

"No, Jack did not lie," the Queen said, making a gesture with her hand and a slim brown horse stepped forward, and Jack was astride it, his coat of flowers and leaves glowing with eldritch fire.

"Yes he did," Xander growled, and Spike curled closer to him, shivering. "Fuck you all. I'm going home, and Spike's coming with me."

"I think not," the Queen said, and suddenly the wolves were there, growling - manes bristling and teeth gleaming like ice in the wisp-light of the Court.

_*Run if you have to - we'll hold them. Tara's got a spell - Dawn brought the sword - we can hold them,*_ Oz thought, and Xander nodded silently - looked down at Spike.

"Love - can you get up? We're -" _*Going home, love, going home oh **God** , Spike, love you, missed you so much, so much -*_

_*I can - get up. Xander, you're so thin, love, you - fuck, so beautiful, missed you missed you -*_

Xander crushed Spike to him for a moment, aware of Scavenger moving up the bank, getting between them and the Queen - aware of a sudden _silence_ as he helped Spike to his feet and got the duster on him properly, arms through the sleeves and middle button fastened.

"You've no right to be here," a voice said - male voice and it was another Sidhe, pale and kingly looking, astride a coal-black horse. He was very close to the Queen and he had a long, silver sword in his hand. 

_*King. Her king,*_ faintly from Spike, and Xander edged between them, his jeans sticking to his legs and his hair dripping onto his shoulders - _cold_ , and feeling Spike shivering under his arm. He looked where the king was looking.

_*Jesus! **More** of them? Who the fuck -*_ "Scavenger - who are _these_ people?" Scavenger was clothed again - brocade and silk, nothing like what he'd worn at the mansion and he turned and made a deep bow to the ranks of riders that were coming up behind.

"It is the She. The Queen of Air and Darkness, Alex-an-der." His eyes were flame, and Xander shuddered. The new Queen was dressed all in silver-shot black, with black hair like a waterfall down her back and over the horses' back - nearly to the ground. A crown of glowing silver sparks hovered over her hair and forehead, seemingly attached to nothing at all, like a collection of tame fireflies.

"I've every right," she said, her voice cold and steely. "Pacts have been broken and things have been - overturned. Someone has told lies, and now I've come to collect my own." She looked for one long moment at Spike and Xander - at the wolves - glanced across to Tara and Dawn who were standing shoulder to shoulder. "Mortals dragged into our private affairs. I like this not at all."

"They're not mortals," and that was _Jack_ , nudging his horse forward and Xander growled - and _Spike_ did, and the wolves both sent up wailing snarls of warning - of bloodlust. _*Pack pack protect*_ from them both - from the hyena - and _*rage*_ from the demon, white-hot.

"Well, they are not _ordinary_ , but they are not of the Courts, nor yet of our kind." Her gaze turned to Xander, pinning him there with eyes that were like a star-field - black and spangled and infinite. "Promises were broken. You are owned a debt."

"I don't want anything to _do_ with you. Leave us alone," Xander growled, hugging Spike close.

"Be that as it may -" The dark Queen made a gesture and Scavenger walked over, and held out a slim twig of wood to Tara. "This will call us, and that will cancel our debt." Tara hesitantly took the wood - nodded jerkily in surprise as Scavenger bowed low to her. The dark Queen looked at her paler counterpart and the pale Queen made a little gesture of her own. Another Sidhe - as pale, but dressed all in green - dismounted and walked to Dawn - offered a small mote of light that seemed to be a crystal. Dawn looked at Tara, who nodded, and took the shard carefully. It glowed faintly in her palm.

"And that will cancel the Seelie Court, as well. Do not use them lightly. Go home, children. Go home and be well." The dark Queen drew herself up, shooting a look at Jack that would have made lesser men slink away. Then she turned her attention to the pale Queen. "Now - we've matters to settle. Will it be war, my sister, or will it be parley?"

_*Out of here - get you home - Spike -*_

_*Oh, missed you, missed you, love you, Xander, love you so much -*_ They turned away from the deadly quiet, chillingly polite conversation the two Queens were having and picked their way down and down, through the crisp winter bracken and grass to the van. It was still running, the doors hanging open. 

"Spike?" Dawn asked softly and the link opened wide, suddenly - the wolves changing and grabbing Spike at the same moment, Dawn pushing in and Tara; everyone trying for touch - for some _connection_ \- and Xander held on tight, watching Spike reach for Dawn's hand - stroke Tara's cheek - pull the wolves into a crushing embrace. Incoherence - a jumble in the link of emotion and _*love*_ and _*pack*_ and _*always.*_ _*Brother,*_ from Dawn, and a heart-pounding _joy_ , and the same from Tara - warmth and affection and stunned happiness that was overwhelming.

It took long, long minutes for them to finally calm down - to slowly back off Spike who was shaking hard, _*cold*_ and exhaustion. Oz and Derio were dressing fast and Dawn crawled into the van, unfolding the old quilts Oz kept there, making a nest of them for Spike and Xander. Oz climbed in and cranked the heat up high, and Xander and Spike curled down into the quilts, holding on tight. Dawn sat beside them, her hand on Spike's shoulder and Tara did the same, unable to resist reaching out and touching Spike's hair - his cheek - again and again. Xander just pushed his face into Spike's neck and breathed, holding back tears that felt too hysterical.

_*If I let go now I'll just...I'll cry all the way home. Spike, Spike, vampire-mine, oh **God** , love, love you....*_

_*Thought about you every day. Xander, love, mine... everybody all right? Is everybody - Tara's back? What did Angel do? Oh fuck, missed you, love you - don't let go, love, don't let go...has to be real....*_

_*Real, it's real, God - have to pry me off with a crowbar. Tara's home for good, we're all home, family now, Spike, all the family -*_

Spike's hands were ice-cold, creeping under Xander's shirt and finding his ribs - curling around his back and stroking his spine and Xander was doing the same. Opening the duster and pulling Spike's naked body tight against him, sharing the warmth Spike wanted so desperately. It seemed to take forever to get home. Forever, and no time at all.

 

"Spike? Hey, Spike, you hungry?" Spike twitched just a little - turned in the bed and smiled sleepily up at Xander, who was sitting on the edge of the mattress, a tray in his hands that he was putting carefully on the chair next to the bed. Spike could smell tomato soup and grilled cheese and blood. "You awake, love?" Xander asked, turning back to him and running his fingers gently through Spike's hair. Spike pushed into his touch - scooted over and got an arm over Xander's thighs and snuggled into him - into the scent of clean wood and honey-sweet, woodsmoke and rue.

"You've been helping Tara," he mumbled, letting his eyes fall shut again and Xander was stroking his back now, pushing the hair out of his way so he could feel skin - hair he hadn't bothered to cut, yet. Just...too tired. And...something else. Nagging doubt that made him hesitate, again and again.

_*Skin and bones, damnit. Still too skinny, love. C'mon and sit up and eat, okay?*_

_*Only if you do, too,*_ Spike thought, and Xander tugged gently at his hair.

"I will, you will, we'll both take a nap. Okay?"

"Okay." Spike sighed and loosened his hold on Xander's legs - sat up slowly and let Xander fuss a wedge of pillows behind him and hitch the covers up higher. Then Xander was stripping off sweats and flannel and t-shirt and getting into the bed with Spike - scooting over carefully with the tray and settling it on his own lap. Two sandwiches, two bowls of soup, huge mug of warm blood.

"Can't eat all that," Spike muttered, feeling a little panicky, and Xander just looked at him.

"Yes you can. It'll be okay, love."

Spike nodded - reached out for a sandwich and tore off a corner - dipped it in the blood and ate, slowly. His hands shook, and his stomach clenched uncomfortably. Human blood was what he _needed_ , but he'd gone so long without it - surviving on dilute demon blood and the strange magic of the hell he'd been in. The blood Xander was getting him was so… _rich_. It made him feel sick, although not as bad now, five days home, as those first couple of days when he'd barely been able to keep it down. He wondered what in hell was going on - what this _new_ thing was. And Xander wouldn't eat if he _didn't_ and Xander was too damn thin.... That was almost unbearable.

_*Bastards. Hate this....*_ The claim-illness had kicked in with a vengeance around year four, and Spike had been reduced to being carried from place to place - lord to lord. They hadn't much cared. They'd just wanted what was in his _head_.... He flinched and sent his thoughts firmly elsewhere, shutting the link down to almost nothing. He felt the surge of panic from Xander and closed his eyes, concentrating. _*Sorry, sorry love, I - I can't -*_

_*Spike, it's okay. Please? Please don't. I can't stand for you to shut me out. Please, please, love....*_ The same plea, the same desperation, and Spike leaned his head on Xander's shoulder and just rested there a moment, sniffing a little when Xander's arm slipped around him and hugged him close.

"Don't want to, love, but...it hurts. It hurts to...think about it and I don't - don't want you to hurt." _*Don't want to be **wrong** , can't be wrong, can't do that, can't can't can't -*_ Spike stopped that thought before it hit the link - clamped down hard on the fear that surged through him every minute - every hour. Fear and despair.

"It hurts when you go away, Spike," Xander said, his voice so very soft but broken, a little - rough with emotion that he was trying to suppress. "It hurts more than - than anything. Please _don't_ , Spike." Xander's cheek was on his head - his hand gently stroking Spike's shoulder and Spike nodded, wishing they could just curl and sleep. Sleep, and dream, and….

_*No - no more sleeping until you eat.*_ Derio, downstairs with Tara and Dawn, sending a surge of anger and anguish through the link. Anger not at Spike, but anger all the same and Spike flinched from it.

_*Trying, wolf, I'm...trying.*_

_*I know. Sorry. Worried about you...want....*_ Derio let that thought trail away, but Spike knew what he wanted - what he wished. Wished he could fix things.

_*Just time, love. Time is all will fix this.*_ Spike shuddered at the feel of them in his head - at the intimate, longed-for wash of love and possessiveness, joy and pain.

_*Yeah.*_ The wolf didn't believe that anymore than Xander did. They were _all_ uneasy with his desertion in the link but Spike...didn't know what else to do. He wasn't _sure_ , and that was all that had kept him...sane, there.

_*Let Xander in, damnit. You think you'll scare him off - hurt him more than he hurt while you were gone? Let him in.*_ Oz, down in the yard, burning wood-scraps and yard waste - wearing himself out with work around the house and on his van. Angry, like Derio was, and afraid. Which made Spike feel that much worse.

_*I'm sorry. I'm sorry, I'm hurting you….*_

_*It's okay -*_

_*No it's not, Xander. It's not.*_ Oz shut down, only a thread of upset coming from him, and they heard the back door open and shut - Derio going outside to be with him. After a moment they could hear water running, and knew Tara and Dawn were cleaning up.

_*Sorry,*_ Spike thought - _whispered_ , in his head, because he hated this, hated it so _much_ , but he didn't know - he just didn't know what to do.

"God - Spike, please don't - apologize! I - I shouldn't push you, I know that...." Xander fiddled with his spoon, his arm tight around Spike's shoulder. "I just - I can _feel_ it, Spike! I can feel how much you...hurt and I...I have to _fix_ it, I have to - make you feel better...to _try_...." He dropped the spoon into the soup and twisted just enough to hug Spike with both arms, lips on his forehead and in his hair and Spike hugged back hard, hating how thin Xander felt - how worn he looked. Hating that the family was on eggshells, and all because of him.

_*I'd let you fix it if you could, love. I would. I...just let me...try, for a little longer, yeah? Try to...fix it myself. Let me work it out.*_

_*A **little**. Just a little, Spike. Can't **do** this....*_

"I know, love. C'mon, now - bite for bite, yeah? Before it gets cold." Spike sat up, grateful for the electric blanket that radiated sun-hot warmth. He took the cup of blood from Xander and drank it, fast as he could. It choked him - made his stomach roll uneasily and made him lightheaded for a minute. But then he swallowed, hard, and set his mind to ignoring it, and took a plate with a sandwich on it. Xander was slowly eating soup, slumped tiredly back against the headboard.

"You left this downstairs, Xander." Tara at the door, a bottle of juice and a beer in her hands and Spike smiled at her, feeling a little better.

"Oh - yeah, I did." Xander smiled too - took his juice and held the tray steady while Tara settled lightly on the edge of the bed. Rue and lavender and dragon's blood, sweet scents that made Spike feel safe - made him _sure_ he was home. Tara squeezed his knee a little under the covers - reached out to stroke the long lock of hair that lay over his shoulder.

"Buffy's jealous. She said it's not fair for the evil undead to have such perfect curls."

"She'd look like Shirley Temple in curls like this - she doesn't want that." Spike looked down at the long hair - shivered a little and pushed it back over his shoulder, and took the bottle of beer from Tara. "Needs cutting, that."

"Whenever you like, okay?" Tara watched him for a moment, head a little to one side, and then she leaned forward and kissed his cheek. "I'm so glad you're home," she whispered, and Spike caught at her as she leaned back and pulled her into a hug.

"Me too, Glinda." The door bumped open and Sinclair wandered in, nose twitching. He jumped up onto the bed and crept up between Spike and Xander - started his patented head-bump/full-body-rub that meant 'aren't I adorable and don't you want to feed me that?'

"Go away, miserable creature. You don't like tomato soup," Spike said, rubbing him behind the ears and stroking the long, cream-colored back. Sinclair _'brrrup_ 'ed' at him, bird-noise of pleasure and edged a little closer to the tray. _*Home, this is home, home….*_

 

Spike woke abruptly, lifting his head and looking sharply around. He was downstairs on the fold-out couch - the whole family was, actually, in a cozy dog-pile. Fell asleep watching a movie and here it was just dawn, and no one had stirred. Spike looked cautiously around himself, cataloging the things that were the same...and the things that were different.

_*There's my desk, right, and my journals, and there's Dawn's desk, and her b-books, that's new, that wasn't there... same fold-out couch, fuckin' thing hurts everybody's back, don't know why we keep it... Sinclair, he's here but - Miss Kitty **wasn't** , she wasn't and...Glinda was with that other girl, she wasn't here....*_ Spike wormed his way silently out of the clutch of heat and flesh, eyes warily on the wolves - on Xander. Waiting. But they slept on, and he untwisted the flannel pants and t-shirt he had on - pulled the sleeves of the over-large hoodie back down past his wrists a little. He was so damn _cold_ , all the time... the warmth never lasted.

_*Need to eat, that's why, need to go hunting, get the real stuff....*_ He waited, but nothing happened and he padded over the house, looking - checking. First upstairs, looking into the three new rooms - looking at the new bits and pieces that were in the _old_ rooms. Feeling a chill when he wasn't sure what really _was_ new and what was old. Running his fingers down the line of postcards in the mirror in his and Xander's room but not daring to turn them over.

_*Might be right, might not, might....*_ He went back downstairs, standing for a long time in the still-room, breathing in the heady mix of herbs - of the family. They all gravitated here, to watch Tara work and to get their hands soaked with good scents. Even the cats seemed to like it, although so far they had ignored the catnip growing near the windows. After a while, slowly, he walked out of that room and into the studio. He couldn't bring himself to go past the door for a long moment, and then he _did_ and just stood there, looking. Watching the dust-sheeted statues, wondering if they would move - turn - _touch_ him. He couldn't stand it if they did. He hadn't looked under the sheets yet - had pleaded illness and exhaustion even when he felt the hurt that caused....Xander. Today - today he would.

Cautiously, he went to the first one on his left and eased the sheet back - stepped hastily away once it was uncovered. But nothing happened - it didn't move, and he was left staring at… _himself_. Staring at _William_ , surrounded by books and papers. William whose chest had a burned-out hole in it, and in the hole...an elaborate glass heart. Ruby-red, edged with gilt, sparkling with rhinestones. A gaudy, Las Vegas sort of heart and Spike had to laugh - laugh in a slightly hysterical way, staring at that.

_*Is that what Dru saw? Burning baby fish and the heart of a fool. Is it what Xander sees? Never know....*_ Sunlight was streaming in the studio windows, the frail yellow a watercolor. _*It's...been nice. It's been **too** nice. Too perfect. Can't stand the wait. Want it to be **over**.*_ "Hear that, you wankers? I'm too tired to do this. Gonna wake up, now." Spike went slowly to the square of light on the floor. _*Won't even be warm. Bastards. Can't even give me that, can you? Can't even give me any heat that lasts....*_ He felt a twist of utter despair, but he ignored it - took a breath - and stepped into the sun.

" _Spike!_ " Spike winced as he was tackled to the floor, Xander rolling him away from the sunlight and he could only lie there and stare up at Xander's terrified - _furious_ face.

"It - that _hurt_. It burned," he muttered, staring down at his arms, which were still smoking slightly.

"Of course it hurt! What the fuck are you _doing?_ " Xander shouted, shaking him, and Spike heard the double _thump_ of the wolves coming off the bed; sleepy _'what?'_ from Tara and _Pack , Xander - what?*_ from Oz or Derio, he couldn't be sure. 

_*Hurt, it hurt, never hurt before, it just - I would just wake **up**.... Oh God, oh **fuck** , gotta try -*_ Spike wiggled a foot - inched it into the pool of light. The sun warmed, then stung, then _burned_ \- smoke wisped up from his toes and then _flame_ and he was laughing as Xander yelled again - whipped around and smothered the flames in the flannel shirt he was wearing. The wolves ran in, dazed and snarling, and Tara and Dawn gazed in shock from the doorway. Xander took two fist-fuls of the hoodie and dragged Spike bodily _away_ \- sat down with a thump and pulled him close, tears streaking down from his eye, and from the empty socket.

"What the _fuck_ are you _doing?_ Jesus Christ, Spike!" _*Trying to **kill** yourself? What the **hell**?*_

"No, love, no, no - God - it _hurt_ , it _burned_ \- fuck, Xander, help me, get a knife, get - get one of your knives -"

"Spike, tell me what's going on!" Xander was pale as paper - shaking like a leaf - and Spike yanked him close and hugged him, the floor cold under him, the sweet, clean smell of wood thick in his nostrils.

"Love, it _hurt_ , and it's not - it _didn't_ before and I - I think I'm home, I think I'm _home_ , Xander, God - _please_ get me a knife, please, please -" Spike knew he was babbling - hell, _ranting_ \- knew he sounded crazy. But it had _hurt_ , that sunlight - hurt and burned and done what it was _supposed_ to do, and it hadn't done that - _*Seven years, seven fucking years and today it **hurts**!*_

Oz was rifling through a tool-box and snatched something up with a small sound of triumph. He hurried over with a longish knife, the blade's edge glittering like diamonds. He went to his knees beside Spike and Xander, offering, and Derio was there, and Dawn and Tara were crowding close as well, fear and the beginning of excitement on their faces. Spike took a handful of hair - held the knife above it for a long moment and then he hacked at it, ruthlessly chopping, hair catching and pulling but falling away under the blade until he had more than a foot of darkly-brown, spiraled hair in his hand. He sat there, trembling. Holding the length of hair and the knife, waiting.

"Okay, you cut your hair. You - are you okay? Spike, I don't get it." Xander was rubbing Spike's shoulder, visibly trying to keep himself calm.

"It's staying cut," Spike said, staring at the hair. He could sense the confusion around him, and Dawn knelt down next to him, looking seriously at him.

"That's what hair _does_ , Spike. What's the deal?

"The _deal_ , Niblet - the deal is...." Spike caught a hard breath - felt the tears coming and blinked them back, or tried to. "The _deal_ is I'm home, I'm...fucking _home_ , I'm....really here...." He laughed then, a little wildly maybe, but he couldn't help it. He held the knife out in a wobbling hand. "Cut it off - cut it all _off!_ Dawnie, please - wolfling - cut it off!” He laughed again, almost sobbing, and watched Dawn reach and hesitantly take the knife from his hand - move behind him.

He grabbed Xander and pulled him into another hug, burying his face in Xander's neck, kissing and kissing him - kissing the scar and then - _biting_ , just a gentle nip. Enough to draw blood and Xander shivered in his arms and Spike _laughed_ , just laughed, because the blood was _right_. It was hot and right and wonderful; spiced with Xander's love and with his desire - underlying hint of the wolves and the salt-musk of the hyena. Hot, human, _his_ , his love, his own, his _claimed_ and Spike laughed and cried and held his boy - felt Dawn sawing at the hair and felt his neck finally free of it - felt the shorter, rough strands ruffle up under Derio's hand - felt Tara rubbing his back.

_*Home, home, oh God, I'm home, I am….*_

 

"What did they do, Spike?" Xander asked, his chest to Spike's back and his arms firmly around Spike's ribs. Back on the sofa-bed and everyone gathered as close as they could.

"They..... They can't _feel_ there. They're dead and - emotionless and...cold. _Frozen_. God, it was so _cold_ there...." Spike shuddered, snuggling closer to Xander and Tara made a small sound of distress, tucking the throw up tighter around Spike's ribs. "Thank you, love." Spike smiled at her and then leaned his head back on Xander's shoulder, letting his eyes fall shut.

"They don't feel, and they… _wanted_ to. And they could...make the link work. Kind of. They could - feel it. And I think...they could let me feel you, sometimes. But I only...." Spike stopped and took a deep, hard breath, feeling shaky. "I felt...how sad you were. I felt...the p-pain and the fear and...God, Xander, love, I'm so sorry, so sorry -" _*Never meant to hurt you like that, **never** wanted that.... Wolfling, lobo...so, so sorry -*_

"Shut up, Spike. Stop it." Xander's voice was choked with tears and he put his face down into Spike's neck, shuddering. "You - we know why you did it. We're _okay_ , we're...God, _love you_ , Spike, love you no matter what." _*No matter what, no matter **what** , God! Vampire-mine, always, always….*_

_*Love you, love you, Spike….*_

_*Pack. Pack and...family...love you....*_ Spike just sat there for a long moment, basking in it - in the link, the _love_ , the warmth. In the _*brother joy brother always*_ from Dawn and the more tangible _*love you love you brother*_ from Tara.

"They wanted to _feel_. They wanted...to pretend to live. And they...they did it _through_ me. But - it wasn't enough after a while. It wasn't...strong enough. They went over everything again and again and...they _changed_ things." Xander's lips were warm and wet on his cheek and he turned into the caress - felt Dawn's hand slip into his and smiled weakly.

"They wanted the strongest emotions they could get. Love, but hate, too. Joy, and despair. Madness...Xander, I -"

"Tell us, love. Tell us - _show_ us. Let us in and - and we'll make it better. We _will_."

"Hurts, Xander...." Spike whispered, but he let the link open wide, and poured it all out. Dimly felt Tara's hand on him, and knew she was feeling it too - maybe even seeing it - and a sharp gasp from Dawn told him that Tara's magic was making it real for her, as well.

_*Sorry, sorry...oh God....*_ Seven years, and in seven years he'd seen Xander die, over and over. At the hands of demons, his friends - Glory. Killed him _himself_ , in the throes of madness brought on by the First. Or failed to stop Caleb and a blind Xander was shuffled away by the Council - marginalized and loathing him. Oz dying, or trapped forever by the Initiative - mindless slave or eviscerated guinea-pig. Derio's magic somehow not fitting with the wolf-magic and Derio dying, as well.... All of them, again and again. And Spike had come _home_ \- so many times. Home to a family that had fractured and scattered - home to a Xander that had taken a new lover, or a Xander that simply didn't want him anymore. Wolves who had abandoned humanity and didn't know him. Tara dead, or Dawn - dead, gone, suffering - _hating_ him, and the Lords of Hell - their magic made it real, every time. Made it as real as acid and razors - as holy-water. So real that he'd sure he'd been _home_ , every time. Had been sure his time was up and this was...reality.

Seven years of guilt and rejection, death and loneliness, failure and despair. Seven years of near-madness and Spike never _knew_. Was always fooled, by the clever Lords - by their magic that clouded his mind and the illness that dulled his senses. Fooled and returned, nothing changed, to start all over again.

"But it hurt. My foot _still_ hurts. And my fucking hair - staying short…."

_*You're home, you are! You really are, God - Spike -*_ Pain in the link, but it was easing, and the more he poured out the lighter he felt. Spike held onto this family - held on tight for fear he'd float away as seven years of misery bled out, and seven years of pain was washed away with compassionate tears and soothing voices and arms and hands that held him tight - held him fast.


	35. The End of it All

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So...here it is - the end! Originally, the last chapter was posted at my website in January of 2005. Here's what I had to say: _I'm equal parts giddy and maudlin. It's been a long, crazy ride - just amazing, frightening, wonderful... Changes has brought all sorts of people into my 'space' and helped me to make some wonderful friends. I don't even know where to start!_
> 
>  
> 
> _Well, i do, actually. I start with Canadian Snoopy, who has just...vanished. She got me writing again, encouraged me, and did amazing fb and beta-ing on the first half of 'Something Rich and Strange'. I would NEVER have written Changes without her, and I love her for it. Snoopy - I miss you every day - thank you, thank you, thank you._  
>  And then Lazuli, who graciously offered up advice and space - namely Excessent and it's archive The Attic - to host Changes.  
> And so many others...PerfectWhorl, who fb'd and encouraged and raved and made me feel great, and kyrieane and roxymissrose and reremouse for their support and encouragement, 'dirty' beta's and super-fast fb's that told me i hadn't lost my mind and totally screwed up this or that chapter or moment or storyline. Ladies, i'm so glad to know you, and so honored to call you 'friend'! Love you all!
> 
>  
> 
> _Now, some 'stats'. Here's the final word count._  
>  'Something Rich and Strange': 222,872  
> 'Hold Fast': 226,532
> 
>  
> 
> Thank you, all of you, new and old, who read and re-read, commented and enjoyed. It's been great! A .zip of both parts are available here: [Something Rich and Strange](http://scarecrowhorses.com/docs/Changesptone.zip) and [Hold Fast](http://scarecrowhorses.com/docs/changes2.zip)
> 
>  
> 
> ___________

_"I never feel a thing is real_  
_When I'm away from you…_  
_Out of your embrace_  
_The world's a temporary parking place…."_

 

Xander shifted, just a little - ran his hand down Spike's ribs and onto his thigh - curled it around, the back of his hand just brushing against the cool weight of Spike's sac. Spike's head was lying back on Xander's shoulder and Xander was slowly, deliberately licking and kissing every inch of his neck - making bruises that wouldn't last long enough and making Spike's whole body sing and tingle with every scrape and nip of his teeth.

"Good...ssso...good..." Spike whispered, and Xander agreed, shifting again and flexing _up_ \- driving a little deeper into the clinging, cool embrace of Spike's body.

_*You taste like spice...like cream and spice....*_

_*That's nog, love. Do I?*_

Xander giggled and then bit at the claim mark, closing his eye to the all-over shudder that wracked Spike - that spiraled out through the link. "You do, yeah...so fuckin' good."

_*Do that again, Xander, do it again -*_ Spikes hands were tight on his hips, encouraging more and faster movement but Xander kept it slow and deliberate - doing to Spike what he so often did to Xander.

_"Say it's only a paper moon_  
_Sailing over a cardboard sea…_  
_But it wouldn't be make-believe_  
_If you believed in me…."_

 

"Do it all day, Spike," Xander promised, and moved and thrust again, slow easing of his cock in and out. Spike's thighs trembled against his and his hands gripped harder - loosened - gripped again. His body clenched tight around Xander and he bucked a little, twisting.

_*Evil, you're the evil one...yeah, that, love....*_

Xander pushed Spike's head forward to nibble at the sensitive skin at the nape of his neck where the silk-soft, honey-brown hair lay in wisps and curls. _*Glad you kept this….*_

_*Just for you, love.*_ "For you...." Spike murmured, and his hands slipped off Xander's hips and down to the bed. He put his fists between his knees and leaned forward slowly and Xander let his mouth glide wetly from nape to spine - stopped to make a love-bite between Spike's shoulder-blades. Spike growled softly - grumble that rattled into the purr and back, vibrating Xander's mouth. "Xaaaan-derrrrr..." he groaned, and Xander took Spike's hips in his hands - started to move a little faster and a little harder, jolting Spike up and forward with each thrust.

_*God, you're beautiful….*_

 

_"Yes, it's only a canvas sky_  
_Hanging over a muslin tree…_  
_But it wouldn't be make-believe_  
_If you believed in me…."_

 

"Nothin'...on _you_...yesss...." Spike shifted again, further up on hands and knees and Xander moved up as well - felt what the change of angle did to Spike and grinned - did it again. And again, until Spike was past words, past anything, and the link was like a sun; heat and blinding brilliance and _fire_ , that danced along their nerves. Spike's blood sizzled in Xander's mouth - sparked and smoked with magic and lust and love, and long after they'd both stopped panting and Spike was curled against him, sleepy and content, Xander could taste it - feel it inside.

_*Not ever going to let you go again. Not...ever. Don't care if the world ends, don't care about any of it, just want you, you, you.... Vampire-mine, so beautiful.*_

_*You'll turn my head, all that sweet-talk.*_ Spike lifted his head just a little, looking down at Xander with a blissed-out expression that made Xander smile. "Gotten good at the pillow-talk, love," Spike murmured, running a slow finger along Xander's jaw - tracing his lips, touching his nose. Poring over details until Xander wanted to squirm, just a little.

"Had plenty of practice. I talked to your coat for a month -" That memory, in the link, and Spike laughed. Shaky laugh, but genuine amusement at the picture. The song on the radio changed - 'Moon River' - and Spike hummed along for a moment.

"Should I be jealous of my coat, love? Havin' you when I couldn't?" Xander's eye went wide at that and he shut the link down hard - reflex he couldn't control and instantly regretted.

_*Oh shit.*_

"Love? What is it? Why'd you - do that?"

"I just - I didn't mean to, I -" Spike was _looking_ at him, and Xander felt panic rising - felt his mind skittering from thought to thought and story to story but, as usual, coming up empty in the face of Spike's unwavering gaze.

" _Xander -_ "

_*Fuck. Fuck it. Can't - lie, no matter what....*_ "Spike, I - I wanted...." Xander closed his eye, trying to organize his thoughts and something nosed into the link - Oz, from somewhere downstairs.

_*Just show him. He won't care, Xander - it'll be all right. Just let him know….*_

_*God, God...yeah, okay....*_ "Spike, I - I have to tell you something. Show you - " Xander opened his eye and Spike was staring at him, expression of mounting horror on his face and Xander pulled him close, hugging him tight. "No! No, it's - damnit, I'm fucking this up so bad. Spike, just, just...." _*Here. I have to show you...this.*_

He let the link open wide, showing in a cascade of image and emotion the days after Spike had gone - the months. Showed his depression and his withdrawal, showed the wolves and the patrols and Dawn - Tara. Showed, with panic making his heart _pound_ , the nights spent with Oz and Derio. The intimacy he'd never expected to want or need - not without Spike right there.

_*I'm sorry. I'm sorry, Spike, I'm sorry...you were being - tortured, you were - **God** , you were in pain and all alone and...and I just - fuckin' gave in, I -*_

_*Xander, stop it! Stop it, stop it -*_ Spike pulled out of his crushing embrace and got up on his elbow again, staring down at Xander wide-eyed. "You're telling me - that while I was gone - you went to the wolves?" Xander nodded miserably, not trusting his voice. Doing his best not to grab Spike and plead with him. Beg him to understand. Spike touched Xander's lips again - ran his finger up to the edge of the empty socket and traced the eyebrow that arched over it. "You really think…. Xander, you _really_ think I'm - _mad_ at you?"

"You should be!" Xander nearly yelled. He snapped his mouth shut - bit his lip and then continued in a softer voice. "You _should_ be. You were _alone_. You were...everything was so horrible for you there and I was _here_. I was at home, and I h-had the wolves and Dawn and Tara, most of the time, and - and the cats and -" Spike snorted quiet laughter and Xander wanted to scream. " _Don't!_ Don't do that! I had fucking _everything_ and you had nothing and - and I shouldn't have done it! Spike, I shouldn't - have done it, it was wrong, it was -" _*so fucking selfish, so....weak -*_

" **No**. No, love." Spike looked _mad_ now - mad and a little wild-eyed and Xander wanted to curl into a ball and just...hide. "No hiding, love. Never. I'm _not mad_. Do you hear me?"

"You should be. _I_ am," Xander whispered, and Spike sighed and tucked himself down - got his head under Xander's chin and his arms around him - tangling them together in a knot of flesh/

"Oh, love. I would have done _anything_ to have your year be a happy one. I don't _care_ , you hear me?" Spike's fingers rubbed slowly over his shoulder, touching the gun-shot scar and skittering away, flinch of pain in the link. "I'd have done - anything at all. If those bloody wolves _hadn't_ made you feel better -"

"Us 'bloody wolves' did our best," Oz said, standing in the doorway and Spike lifted his head and held out a hand. Oz crossed to him and twined his fingers with Spike's and the low hum of nearly-undetectable discontent that was _both_ wolves eased off. They were only truly happy when they were touching Spike. Xander reached out and put his hand on Oz's knee, blinking. Trying to accept that Spike really _wasn't_ mad.

_* **Course** I'm not! I'm not.*_ "I can see what you did, wolfling. Saved my boy - kept him _here_ \- owe you both."

"No you don't," Oz whispered. He hesitated one long moment and then he curled into Xander, his arm going over Spike's ribs, his other hand finding Xander's and clinging tight. _*Kept him here - couldn't stand to lose him, too - had to have you both -*_

_*Spike, I -*_

"Don't apologize again, love," Spike growled, nipping hard enough at Xander's collarbone to make Xander gasp. "You didn't do _anything_ wrong. Nothing, I'm not mad. It's - " _*Pack. Family. How it **is**. Never wanted you to be alone - never wanted that. You're not a martyr, love, didn't want that.... Wolves kept you safe, they - kept you sane. Why would I want anything different? Love you, love you, love you so much...nothing changes that, ever.*_

"So not fair!" Dawn darted in from the doorway, jumping hard onto the bed and cuddling up behind Spike, hugging him. "Oz said to leave you alone but _he's_ up here in the bed! If he can I can."

" _Dawn!_ I don't have anything _on_ , under here!"

"I'm on _top_ of the covers, Spike!" Dawn gripped tighter at bicep and shoulder and ducked her face down, obstinately not moving and _*brothers want love I will I will.*_ Clearer in the link than she ever had been. A remnant of Tara's magic, maybe. Or her own mystical origins, lending her an ability she shouldn't have.

_*Not fair, not fair!*_ from _Derio_ then, faint with distance. He and Tara were grocery shopping.

_*It's all right. We'll stay here until you get home,*_ Xander assured him, finding a lock of Dawn's hair and curling it around his finger. A bit of his old self - a bit of basement-Xander made him ask, one more time - "Spike, are you - _sure_?"

"Course I'm sure. You can _feel_ it, love. I know you can."

"TMI, Spike! God!" Dawn was fighting laughter and Spike reached around and whapped at her, glancing tap to her thigh.

"The _link_ , you filthy-minded thing!"

" _I'm_ not the one who's been in bed for two weeks in a row!"

"Well, what'd you expect, Bit? Haven't seen the love of my life for...too long. Gonna keep him here for a _month_."

"That could get really gross," Dawn said, contemplative note in her voice and Xander shut his eye and laughed helplessly, telling Derio what was going on. _*Bring some of those cracker-and-cheese things, we can eat those in bed -*_

"No, you _can't_. You're still too thin, Xander, you have to get up and eat _real_ food -" Oz was scolding, and Dawn was trying to tickle Spike, and Derio and Tara were pushing down the aisles, gathering the last things they needed, eager to get home.

_*Home, home, this is our home and we're **all** here and I have you again, my own, my love. I have you again and will never, ever let you go, Spike….*_

_*Promise you that, love. Promise you that on my heart and soul and blood and bones.*_ " _ **Dawn**!_ Leave the bedclothes _be!_ " Scandalized voice of William and Dawn's incoherent laughter - Oz's yipping growl of amusement.

_*Never want anything but this,*_ Xander thought, and hugged his family close.

_"We're after the same rainbow's end_  
_Waiting around the bend…_  
_My Huckleberry friend_  
_Moon River and me…."_

 

May was full of wind and storms and long, drowsy days in the studio - nights running the beaches and the woods and the darkest parts of the city. It was still a thrill to watch Spike fight - to fight _beside_ him - and sometimes Xander just stopped and watched; dusted a vamp or knocked a brawling human unconscious and stared. But something had changed, in Spike. A slow change, over the last five months, but a change nevertheless. His fighting technique was the same - mix of street-brawler and trained fighter - but he was silent now. He fought with a focused savagery that made Xander shiver, sometimes. He hunted with the same single-minded intention, weeding out the dregs and taking their life-blood with a sort of manic glee. More the demon, in those moments, than he had been for a while. _*Darklife olderthan chaos malice*_ broadcasting _Spike_ out to anyone with the senses to feel it.

_*What's different?*_ Xander asked, watching him drive one of his spiral nails straight through a doggish demon's heart and watching it convulse in its death-throes. _*Why are you so...intent?*_

Spike kicked the demon into the gutter - took out a smoke and lit it and then paced slowly away down the street, glancing over at Xander as he fell into step with him. _*Might not like it,*_ he thought, and Xander shrugged.

"Not like I _have_ to."

Spike nodded, his eyes flickering here and there, making sure of every shadow and corner. Demon's eyes, and the demon's face, and he stopped, finally, and faced Xander. The smoldering coal of his cigarette lit hellish sparks in his eyes. "They dragged out every bit of humanity I still have. Played me like a harp, love. Didn't let me _change_. I don't...." Spike stopped and smoked, leaning against the wall behind him with a small sigh. "I don't want to _be_ human. I don't want to...be that vulnerable again. It fucking _hurt_ , Xander."

"It's not vulnerable to love, Spike," Xander said softly, and Spike reached out and touched his cheek - ran his fingers back through Xander's hair.

"No. The demon never had any trouble loving. But it's not...pretty, all the time. It's not hearts and puppies, pet. I need...."

"You need to be...a vampire, and not - worry about the human stuff?" Xander pushed into Spike's hand and Spike tugged at his hair - flicked his cigarette away and pulled Xander close.

"Yeah. I need...something." Xander crushed Spike to him for a minute, then he leaned back a little and slowly stroked the strange and beautiful features that were the demons.

"Can I help?" he whispered.

"Don't want you to see it, love. You'll be hurt. Can't _do_ that."

"Yeah." Xander kissed, lightly, at Spike's mouth and his forehead and his cheeks - trailed lips and tongue over his jaw and throat and finally the claim-scar, making Spike shudder.

"Figure it out, vampire-mine. Figure out what you need, and then do it. I'll be here for you, no matter what." _*Always, always, always. My blood in you and yours in me and nothing can break that, love, nothing on this earth.*_

_*Always….*_

Three days later Spike made subdued goodbyes and walked into the night, and didn't come back for a week. He did his best to keep the link closed, and Xander did, but things crept into Xander's dreams - blood and fire and vicious fighting - grudges and paybacks and hunts that would have made Vlad the Impaler blanch. Xander kept himself awake all night after the second night, and slept in the day when the link was only the faintest of vibrations along his nerves.

When Spike came back he seemed - at peace, and sat for a day writing in his journal. He'd bleached his hair again - snow white - but left it in a disordered crest of spikes and tufts that were soft to the touch. Xander missed the silky honey-brown of his 'real' hair, but the _*darklife olderthan malice*_ of the demon seemed to have ebbed, and Spike started talking again on patrol.

_*Might do it again,*_ he thought, watching Oz make a fire in the back yard, burning the 'mistakes' that Xander had accumulated trying to make a fancy wardrobe for Dawn.

_*If you do, it's all right,*_ Xander thought back, kissing him, and that satisfied them both.

 

The end of May - the end of classes - Memorial Day weekend and they weren't planning anything more elaborate than a bar-b-que and movies, mostly to avoid the stuff the _rest_ of the city was planning. Oz was looking at maps, finding a place on the mountain to camp because they all wanted to do that again, and Dawn was excited to camp 'for real', with tents and backpacks and astronaut food. Tara had grimaced at the thought and was researching online for ways to cook food over a campfire - wrapped in foil, soup, anything but 'dehydrated franks'n'beans' she said, shaking her head. Xander remembered the hot, melting flesh of the deer's liver and doubted he'd be eating any soup.

Spike came whistling in near midnight, having spent most of his day trolling the Underground, and then hunting down south of the city. The roar of his DeSoto was sounding a little smoother lately and Xander knew he'd found a mechanic he trusted to take care of his darling. The man was talking him into replacing the spray-paint on the windows with some sort of special tinted glass and Spike was warming to the idea. 

"Guess you're all keeping vampire hours now?" Spike asked, looking around the kitchen at the assembled household. Derio and Oz were making waffles and Dawn was circling them like a starving tiger, plate in hand.

"I get the first one, Spike," she said in passing, and he reached out and poked her in the ribs then went back to taking his boots off.

"It's too hot," Tara said, peering at the waffle iron, furry bunny-slippers that Sinclair had chewed to rags on her feet and her hair done up in two braids. She looked thirteen.

"It is _not, gatita_ ," Derio said, wielding a fork and a pot-holder. _*Impugning my waffle-making abilities.*_

_*She **has** seen you make French toast,*_ Xander thought, and Derio rolled his eyes.

"That was _one time_. I was on the phone. Vampire hours are more convenient," Derio added, smiling over at Spike, who climbed up onto the table and wrapped his legs around Xander, pulling him close for a kiss. He tasted like blood and smoke and lemon drops, and Xander _'hmmm'd'_ happily into the kiss.

_*Glad you're home,*_

_*Me too,*_ Spike thought. Halfway through the waffles a car pulled up outside, and when Tara answered the door with Oz right behind her, it was Cordelia. Looking exhausted, Connor in her arms and a bag by her feet.

"Got room for two more?" she asked.

 

Connor was sticky with syrup and spilled grape juice and Dawn, in a sudden fit of maturity, volunteered to take him upstairs and give him a bath. He went with her sleepily, staring hard at Spike and whining once: _'Uncle Oz, be the wolf!'_ When they could hear him splashing happily upstairs they retreated to the living room, trying to find places to sit without excluding Cordelia but ultimately ending up in a sort of lump on and around the couch. Oz turned on the little Bose radio they had in there, to a station that played quiet, folksy things. Cordelia sat in the 'new' recliner, looking at them with a small smile on her face.

"It's like some kind of hippie thing," she joked, and Tara laughed with her, softly.

"Kind of. What's - going on, Cordelia? Fred emailed me a week ago and said - she was moving back to Texas. Going back to school there…."

"Yeah, she is." Cordelia leaned back in the chair, letting go of a long, shaky sigh. "Angel talked her into it. Well, Angel and Gunn and Wes. It took them weeks, but...she did it."

" _Why?_ I thought - she was doing so much good there -" Tara looked upset, _*pushed her out*_ in the link, a stab of anger and unease.

"It's because.... Remember when Angel had that amulet?" Cordelia took in the winces and the low growl that resulted from that question and nodded, looking sad. "I know. I'm - sorry for that. But - before we came up here there was this firm of lawyers, Wolfram and Hart, remember them? They brought Darla back."

"Yeah - I remember," Xander said. "Did the lawyers have something to do with Fred leaving?"

"In a round-about way. They've been trying to get A.I. to join up forever. They told Angel he'd be the CEO - that he'd have unlimited resources and funds...he even went on a tour of the place. It was - pretty impressive."

"Angelus the CEO of a bunch of _lawyers?_ That's - daft," Spike muttered, and Xander had to agree - they _all_ did, even Cordelia, who was nodding slowly.

"Yeah. We talked about it - you should have _seen_ the stuff they showed Wes.... Anyway, he turned them down and now…." Cordelia's hands were gripping each other tightly, knuckles white. She blinked up at the ceiling, her eyes tracking footsteps from the bathroom to the spare bedroom, Connor's giggles making her smile wanly. "Now that he's pretty much told them he'll _never_ work for them - they've been trying to - kill him."

"We talked about this," Oz said softly, and Cordelia nodded.

"Yeah, I know. Only now - we found out from...from a vision...they're going to open some sort of gate. They're going to bring thousands of demons through and - and wipe out Angel Investigations and t-take over L.A."

"You _saw_ this?"

"Yeah, Xander." Cordelia wiped at her eyes and sat up a little, fixing them all with a steely glare. "I saw it and it's going to be...really ugly. And the Powers - won't step in, they say that....they showed us what was going to happen and we have to - figure out how to stop it ourselves. That Angel...has to win it for h-himself -" Cordelia stopped abruptly and dropped her head into her hands and Tara got up and went to her, kneeling down and stroking her arms, talking quietly.

Xander had a sinking feeling in his gut. _*Well fuck. It never fucking **ends**.*_

"Why are you _here_ , cheerleader?" Spike asked, his voice more growl than anything and Xander automatically reached for him, smoothing a hand up and down his back.

"I...because Angel…. He's going to _fight_ , and he wanted me and Connor safe," she whispered. A long silence followed, broken by Dawn coming downstairs with Connor in her arms, clean and dressed in brightly-colored 'Oscar the Grouch' pajamas.

"Time to say goodnight, Connor!" Dawn chirped, pushing wet hair out of her face and letting Connor down. He ran straight to Oz and Derio, flopping onto their laps.

"Wolf, the wolf! Be the wolf!"

"Not tonight, Connor - it's too late." Oz hauled him upright and settled him on his knee. "You have to go to bed."

"Nooo - won't!"

"Don't talk back to Uncle Oz, Connor," Cordelia said. She got up slowly and went to her bag - gathered a book and a stuffed camel out of it. "Bedtime, say goodnight." Connor pouted but turned to Oz and Derio finally, giving quick kisses on offered cheeks. He clambered over them to Tara and gave her a big hug and kiss.

"Miss you, Aunt Tara," he said, solemn-eyed, and Tara palmed back his thick fall of blond hair.

"I miss you too, Connor. I'm glad you came for a visit." Connor got down and walked slowly over to Xander and Spike, looking nervous.

_*Oh, damn. No patch. Probably freaking him out,*_ Xander thought, ducking his head a little.

_*He'll learn,*_ Spike thought, shrugging.

"I like your Oscar pajamas," Xander said, leaning forward. "He's my favorite."

"Mine, too," Connor said. He looked down at the green puppet on his shirt. "Da says Uncle Spike and Oscar are the same."

"M'not _green_ ," Spike snapped, and Connor took a step back.

"N-no, Da says you're both grouchy."

_*Got you there,*_ Xander smirked, and smiled at Connor. "He's right. Uncle Spike can be pretty grouchy but he's a good guy." Connor stood there, twisting his pajama-top hem in his fingers. "You - umm, you don't have to give me a kiss if you don't want to, Connor, it's okay," Xander said, feeling a little sinking feeling. Spike immediately reached out and pulled Xander close, kissing his 'blind' side.

_*I'll kiss you all you want, love,*_ soft and warm in the link and Xander rubbed his head for just a moment against Spike's cheek.

_*Thank you, vampire-mine.*_

Connor's lip had stuck out a little and now he looked over at Cordelia, who rolled her eyes. "I can," he said, and darted in - gave Xander a sloppy kiss and then did the same to Spike - turned and ran to Cordelia and buried his head in her thigh.

"That was really nice, Connor, thank you. Good night, everybody." Cordelia gathered Connor up and slung him on her hip - turned and started walking towards the stairs. "I'm - I'm just going to get Connor settled in and then have a shower, if that's okay? I'm - just really tired."

"Sure, Cordy. When is this big...thing...going down?" Cordelia paused at the foot of the stairs and turned back, her eyes bleak.

"Three days from today," she said softly, and went away upstairs. Silence followed her, the sounds of an Irish ballad on the radio and then Tara was talking softly to Dawn, explaining, and Dawn was looking more and more horrified.

_*What is it with threes? Why always - three days?*_

 

_*It's...a special number. Always has been,*_ Oz thought, curling close against Derio and twining his fingers in Derio's dreads.

_*It fucking sucks.*_

_*Wonder if these Wolfram and Hart bastards are gonna...spread out. Try and take - more than L.A.*_ Spike dug into his jeans-pocket for a cigarette and Xander leaned forward, elbows on knees.

"Fuck, I hope not."

"We have to help!" Dawn was _crying_ , but her face was set in grim lines, and she sat on the floor in front of the couch and stared at all of them.

" _Bloody_ hell - we do _not!_ " Spike was on his feet and pacing, his demon snarling and the link a bitter, determined _no_ that made Xander and the wolves flinch. Tara put her hand to her head and even Dawn swiveled around, staring at him.

"We have to. We _have_ to. We can't let Wesley and Gunn die! Or Angel - what'll Cordelia do if Angel dies! What'll _Connor_ do?"

"Probably heave a sigh of re-"

_* **Stop it**. You know that's not so. You **know** she loves him. And Connor does. They'd - they'd be heartbroken.*_

_*Don't care, don't care, don't **care**!*_

"Look - look, I have an idea, I know what to do!" Dawn wiped at her face and then got up and ran to her desk - rifled through two drawers before she pulled out a small box Xander had made for her, carved with stars and moons. "Look - we can use _this_ \- we can call them -" She hurried back to the couch and crouched down, holding up the palely glowing mote of crystal that the queen of the Seelie Court had given her and the link went to ice.

" _I will not have anything to do with them._ " Spike's voice was a sibilant growl and the stance he was in was one of attack. Xander stood up slowly - got between Spike and Dawn and carefully reached for him. Spike _flinched_ \- jerked back and then growled again, a querulous, sing-song noise that made the hyena surface _fast_ \- that brought Oz and Derio to their feet.

"What - what is -?" Dawn looked stricken and Tara smoothed her hair, staring at Spike.

_*Spike! Spike, don't.*_

_*Will **not**. Not. Pack pack pack protect, damnit, protect protect **protect**!*_ Spike wasn't sensible - wasn't _thinking_ ; was letting the demon take over utterly and Xander got up close to him and forced him back, step by step, until Spike was against the wall. There was panic in his eyes and suddenly he simply grabbed Xander and _bit_ \- hard and deep and just held on. Not drinking - not moving. Just holding, the growl vibrating through his fangs and into Xander's neck - into his head and his spine and his groin.

_*Mine, mine, protect mine, pack pack pack!*_

_*Okay, it's okay, yours, love, yours.... Spike, please, calm, calm -*_

_*Pack is here,*_ from Oz, and the werewolf came closer and closer and then just leaned into Spike, as close as he could. Derio was doing the same and for a moment the four of them were just _there_ , the link and the scent of blood and musk and smoke and salt - almonds and lime, cloves and clean wood.

"Spike, Spike," Xander whispered, frozen in Spike's arms, the fangs delicious lances of hot, stinging pleasure in his throat. "It's all right, it's all right...shhhhh, shhhhh...."

Gradually Spike eased off - drew slowly away. He was still the demon - the link was still roiling with agitation - but he _was_ calmer. "Sorry, love," he mumbled - reached for Oz and Derio both, brush of knuckles over their cheeks. "Sorry. Dawnie, I didn't - didn't mean to scare you," he said a little louder, and Dawn looked up from studying the crystal.

"It's okay. But Spike - they _owe_ us - the Queen said so. Let's - let's just call Scavenger. He was here the night you - the night Xander got you." Dawn stood up, and Tara, and they both came over and were added to the huddle. "He helped Xander, told him what to do - let's just _ask_. If they can help - we have to _try_ , Spike. We can't let Angel die - we can't let Cordelia down like that." Dawn stared up at Spike, eyes huge and wet, and Spike reached out and rubbed his thumb lightly over her lower lip - cupped her cheek.

"I - I don't trust them, Bit. I just - don't."

"I know. But - Tara's been doing research and she has some new things - wards - they won't be able to walk in like they could. And - Scavenger _helped_ before, he was mad at Jack, he was -"

_*Oh God, God, God....*_ Spike shut his eyes and pushed his face into Xander's neck and Xander just held onto him.

"It'll be okay, love. Promise. Promise you," he soothed, and Spike just shuddered under his hands. There was a creak on the stairs and moment later Cordelia was there, gratefully ducking under Tara's out-held arm, her strange, fey eyes glimmering with tears.

"Thank you, God - thank you..." she whispered. Outside, the wind picked up and howled, a lost and lonely sort of sound, and the distant bell of a ship in the Duwamish made them all shiver.

_"Lake Huron rolls, Superior sings_  
_in the rooms of her ice-water mansion._  
_Old Michigan steams like a young man's dreams:_  
_the islands and bays are for sportsmen._  
_And farther below Lake Ontario_  
_takes in what Lake Erie can send her,_  
_And the iron boats go as the mariners all know_  
_with the Gales of November remembered…."_

 

The house was warded to within an inch of its life when Tara raised the twig of dark wood - really, a finely-carved whistle - to her lips. She blew, a long note that was delicate and high and sent Sinclair and Miss Kitty running. Then she whispered _'Scavenger, Scavenger, Scavenger'_.

"Now what?" Cordelia asked, helping Connor to put together a puzzle.

"Now we wait. I don't think he'll come until dusk." Tara put the whistle carefully away in another small box - one carved with acorns and leaves - and settled down on the floor with Cordy and Connor. Dawn was online, typing back and forth with Giles, and Oz and Derio were making music in the corner, guitar and fiddle and soft voices, something new of Derio's.

Xander was sprawled over Spike on the couch, head firmly under Spike's chin and Spike was slowly rubbing his hands up and down Xander's back.

_*Wish we could go... let's go somewhere, love. Let's go to New York, or - or over to Europe or England, yeah? Let's - travel.*_

_*I'd like that,*_ Xander agreed, sleepy in the late-afternoon warmth and quiet of the house. Spike hated this part - the _waiting_ part - more than anything. Hated asking for a favor from a people who drove the demon to a frenzy - who made his human self shrink back in something too much like fear.

_*Not supposed to be like this. Supposed to be....*_ Images from his days with Dru - traveling and stopping on a whim; staying here and there for as long or as short a time as they liked. Seeking out the mysteries and the mundanities of the world. Ghosts in Edinburgh and a jazz-singer in Paris; treasure and new frocks for Dru and a faster car - spell books bound in human skin and an original edition of The Lord of the Rings, signed by the man himself. Several lifetimes' worth of laughter and love and fighting and blood - chases and races and pell-mell flights.

_*Just seein' the world - loving each other...all I want to do with you, love. With the family.*_

_*We'll get there. We'll do it - we will. Love you, Spike. Always. It's going to be okay.*_

 

Tara was right and an hour after a stormy sunset the wards suddenly sparked to life, flaring witch-fire green and yellow all around. Connor laughed out loud and ran to touch, and Cordelia snatched him back - joined Dawn on the couch, wide-eyed. Spike stalked in from the kitchen, a bottle of whiskey in his hand, and went up to the door - opened it and peered out through the screen. A horse's heavy _whuff_ of breath blasted across him, and then there was a sparkling shimmer and Scavenger stood there, limned in the ward-light, his hair tangled and caught full of weed and leaves, dripping wetly over his chest and arms. He hugged his arms tight around his ribs and stood there, his eyes sparking ruby-red.

"It's cold, _chovexani_ \- won't you invite me in?"

"Only if you bind yourself with salt and bread, to bring no harm to this house or those within it," Tara said softly. Scavenger _looked_ at her, his lips peeling back in a snarl and Spike growled, the wards like ants over his skin and the string of beads burning against his chest. Scavenger shook his hair back and the air around him rippled and he was dressed. Ragged jeans and sweater, like before, but barefoot this time and feathers and trinkets in his hair.

"You have the calling of us, and may choose how to use it. Bring me the things and I will so swear." Oz rose from the back of the couch and picked up a small plate - brought it over. Spike eased the screen door open and Scavenger took the plate - took the slice of bread with the pinch of salt on it and folded it and wolfed it down, his eyes gleaming.

"You make good bread, lady. With your own fair hands, you made it. By bread and salt I do swear, no harm to you or yours, no harm under this roof."

"Let him in, Spike," Tara said softly, and Spike did, utterly unable to keep the demon submerged and not caring. _*Better behave. Better not try one bloody thing -*_

_*Calm,*_ faintly from Oz, who was also twitching restlessly as Scavenger moved inside and his peculiar magical presence washed over them.

"Back off, damnit," Xander snapped, eye green-glowing and his voice dropping to a growl, and Scavenger took a deep breath and closed his eyes for a moment. When he opened them the nerve-tingling sensation was gone, and they all relaxed just a little.

"So - you've called. What shall I do? Take you around the world in a night? Grant you three wishes?" His roving eye caught sight of Connor and he smiled. "I could teach yon boy many a skill, in the mounds."

" _No_ ," Tara said sharply, and Scavenger grinned at her.

"What then?"

"Do you have the calling of the Court? Can you bargain for them?"

Scavenger abruptly sobered and looked away for a moment. "I have and I can. What would you with the Court?"

"Long story," Spike said, and went to sit with Xander on the back of the couch, taking a long pull of the whiskey while Tara slowly told their story.

 

"Are we ready?" Xander looked around the room - at the wolves and Spike and Tara - at Cordelia and Connor and Dawn who were huddling together.

"Ready as we'll ever be for this kind of nonsense," Spike grumbled. But he tucked a second knife into his other boot, and the wolves nodded silently. Outside in the yard - noticeable only by glinting spots of scarlet fire in the dusk - were Scavenger and another pooka, waiting to take them to L.A. Cordelia hadn't been able to reach Angel and she was on the verge of breaking down. Dawn was calming herself in the link, holding Cordy's hand so tightly Xander was sure there would be bruises.

"Oh, God -" Dawn let go of Cordy and ran to Spike - hugged him hard and kissed him, then did the same to Xander and the wolves. "Be _careful_ , damnit! No - heroics!"

"Don't fret, love. Back before breakfast," Spike said, and Dawn smiled crookedly at him and went back to Cordelia.

"It's time!" Scavenger called, and Xander grabbed Spike in a hard kiss.

_*What Dawn said - no fuckin' heroics.*_

_*Leave that to Peaches, love,*_ Spike thought, grabbing Xander's ass and pulling him close. They kissed again, and then went out to the waiting pookas. Scavenger nodded at them, grinning, his white teeth flashing in the ward-light and street-light, his hair whipping in a hard wind.

" _Chovexani_ , this is Reed. She will bear you." The other pooka eyed them from behind an even wilder mane of black hair, thin arms crossed over her small breasts.

"Thank you," Tara said, and Reed nodded once - shimmered and twisted and _changed_ , and the massive black horse that stood there dipped its shoulder to Tara and snorted. Derio gave Tara a leg-up, his hands laced around her shin, and Tara settled lightly on the sateen back, her hands clutching deep into the smoky-soft mane, a small backpack over her shoulders.

"If the wolves run with us, they can pace us. Stay at my heels, changelings!" Scavenger laughed, then he changed as well, braying a trumpeting challenge to the night and the storm. Xander climbed on and Spike swung up easily behind him, arms tight around his ribs. The wolves were shedding their jeans - morphing to the wolf and howling up at the sky, eyes flashing green fire.

"Let's go!" Xander yelled, and Scavenger reared up - leapt forward with a bunch and _push_ of powerful hindquarters and suddenly they were _flying_ , skimming over the land - over water - over treetops, it seemed, and the bulking mass of black cloud that was moving in from the sea. They ran south, faster and faster, and Xander tucked down, eye squinted shut - Spike's face in his back and their hands locked together. The wolves were right there, joyous and fierce, running with the pookas as if they had wings.

_*Lets do this, then - do it right - fists and fangs and make the world know...nothing on this earth touches my family.*_

_*I'm in love with William the Bloody and I like it,*_ Xander replied,

_*Flying flying!*_ from Tara, delight and awe, and Xander laughed aloud. L.A. seemed to come too soon.

 

The Wolfram and Hart building was huge - brightly lit - swarming with demons and things darker and less identifiable. There was a swirling mass of lightning-shot cloud hovering over it, and far, far below Spike could see Angelus, standing with a sword and his stupid hair - standing next to Gunn and Wesley with a look of determination and utter loneliness on his face. Rain poured down, a stinging veil, and the gutters ran with dirty, trash-speckled water. Scavenger _leapt_ , forty stories in one stomach-churning go and Xander yelped, clutching at Spike's hands. The pooka skidded on the tarmac of the street, water splashing up from his hooves. He threw his head up and bugled a wild neigh, shaking rain off in an all-over move like a dog. Angel started and spun around - _stared_ , his sword slowly dipping down until the point touched the ground. The wolves loped forward out of a swirling mist, _*flying! God, it was wonderful -*_ in the link.

"What - what are you - _Spike?_ Xander - what -" He gaped at them and Spike grinned - slid off the pooka and braced Xander as he did the same.

"Heard you were havin' a bit of a dust-up, Angelus. Care for a hand?" Angel's lips moved soundlessly, and Gunn - limping and with blood down the side of his face - hobbled over to them. The pooka did a little side-ways dancing move and Gunn froze, then stared in bewilderment as the horse swirled up and away in a fountain of blackness and sparks, revealing after a moment the slight, wickedly grinning form of the pooka.

" _Scavenger?_ " Angel took his own step forward, staring, swiping at the water in his eyes. "What the hell is going on, Spike!" A scream from a demonic throat made them all jerk around and stare, and then Reed was there as well, Tara astride her back, her blonde hair a tangle over her shoulders, her sodden shirt clinging to her.

"Are we ready?" she asked, and Wesley hurried up beside Gunn, blood washing pinkly from his shirt, his face worn and haggard.

"Ready for what? What's going on?"

"Just a little - debt, bein' paid." Spike nodded to Tara and she took the crystal shard out of her pocket and breathed over it - hurled it to the ground where it shattered. Suddenly the sky seemed to split overhead, light pouring out of a fissure in the clouds that was edged in green and yellow, white and scarlet. And the Seelie Court poured out - ranks and ranks of pale horsemen, stretching as far back as the eye could see.

_*Seraphim and Cherubim - Thrones and Dominions - the assembled Host -*_ Spike stared at the them - at the wave of light that was pouring from the sky and glittering off of spear-heads and arrow-points, sword blades and axes The wolves _howled_ , and a roar went up from the Court.

_*God, it's beautiful, it's -*_ Xander had Spike's hand in his, squeezing it tight, and Spike grinned and turned back to Tara, flinging ran out of his eyes with a sideways snap of his head.

"Let's get the others too, love," he called and she smiled - pulled out the whistle from her other pocket. She put it to her mouth and blew one long, shrill note that swelled over the hissing rain and the clink and rumble of the advancing horsemen. The demons caught up the note and howled it back and the _ground_ split; riders surging up like whales from the depths. The UnSeelie Court; black horses and riders clad in shimmering mail and dark gems - weapons that gleamed with a poisoned light. 

"What - _is_ it?" Wesley was clutching at Gunn, and Angel was looking around wildly, and Spike grinned like a madman. He walked over to a car that was parked to one side and peered inside, then put his fist through the window - fished a CD out of his coat pocket and slid it into the car's player.

"Glinda!" he called. "Can you make it work?" Tara nodded - urged Reed over and leaned down from the high, black back - touched the hood of the car. Green light arched from finger to finger and then to the car and suddenly the stereo blared to life, music pouring out into the street, louder than the demons and the Seelie and UnSeelie host.

_"Welcome to the jungle,_  
_We got fun'n'games,_  
_We got everything you want_  
_Honey we know the names_  
_We are the people that can find_  
_Whatever you may need_  
_If you got the money honey_  
_We got your disease…."_

 

"It's a rescue, Percy! Come on - we've got things to kill!" Spike shouted gleefully, taking the sword Scavenger drew from the air - seeing Xander do the same. Reed leapt to a building-roof with Tara, standing beside the Queens and their consorts. Overhead, something screeched, and they all looked up to see a dragon swooping and diving along the Wolfram and Hart façade.

"A - rescue?" Angel stared for one more moment at the Courts, shaking his head in bewilderment. "Jesus - Spike, I -"

"C'mon, me old china! The Princess is safe at home with your boy, time to get to work!" Spike _leapt_ , demon-faced and roaring, Xander at his side and the wolves going out to flank them. The Courts were surging forward and Spike saw Gunn and then Wesley climb aboard the broad back of some pale, dappled horse, swords thrust into their hands and armor slung on in haste, magic making the straps and buckles do the work themselves. Rain gleamed like ice and diamonds and fire on the fantastical armor of the Courts and their weapons - on the tack and equipage of the horses and the banners that snapped and fluttered in the storm-wind.

_*It's like - a fuckin' movie. We're in the middle of a movie,*_ Xander thought, pushing his rain-soaked hair off his face and staring, grinning.

"I'm going to kill the dragon!" Angel yelled, and Spike laughed, and they plunged into the fray.

_"In the jungle_  
_Welcome to the jungle_  
_Watch it bring you to your....knees, knees_  
_I wanna watch you bleed…."_

 

In the peculiar way of magic, when all was said and done L.A. hadn't seemed to notice the titanic forces that had battled for hours in the streets. The rain had slacked and finally stopped, and now a dense fog was eddying along the streets, glowing faintly in the impending dawn. The Wolfram and Hart building was _gone_ \- was nothing more than a smoking hole in the ground surrounded by broken asphalt and concrete, rain-water pooling in the low places. Xander couldn't imagine how _that_ was going to be explained away.

Reed came down from the rooftop, dipping her shoulder so Tara could dismount and then standing there for a moment, staring at them. With a shake of her head she turned and darted away, shimmering into nothingness. The Courts had already gone - when the last demon had fallen they had ridden away into smoke and obscurity, rippling away into thin air as if they had never been. Xander had seen the Queens both raise a hand to them, and then turn and go as well, without a word.

_*Well rid of them,*_ was Spike's thought, and Xander supposed he was right.

"God - did we win? I mean, they're gone, right?" Xander carefully flexed his hand, trying to ease the cramps out of his fingers. The sword-hilt had been welded to his hand with blood and sweat and it had taken him five minutes or more to get his fingers to unlock and let go. The Sidhe blade was propped against a heap of broken concrete now, and he slid slowly down next to it, wincing as broken edges poked him sharply in the back. Tara found a patch of street that wasn't too muddy and sat down, gazing around her with wide eyes.

"Think we won," Spike said, flopping down next to Xander, mud and blood spattered all over him - his face smeared with it and his hair glued into a mat with demon gore. He wiped tiredly at his face and then just lay there.

_*Oz? You all right? Derio?*_

_*We're here*_ The wolves trotted out of the fog, their fur plastered to them, their muzzles wet with blood. Tara reached into her backpack and pulled out two pair of jeans, holding them while the wolves changed. Oz and Derio got the jeans on and then stood there, drooping with exhaustion, as filthy as Spike and Xander were.

"Where's Angel? And - Wes and Gunn? Did you see them?"

"Saw Angel getting that dragon - guess he _did_ kill it." Oz settled gingerly on a twisted mailbox and Derio slumped next to him, leaning his head on Oz's shoulder.

"Is anyone there?" a voice called, sounding distant, and Xander looked around.

"We're here! Who's that?"

"It's Wesley and Gunn! Are you all right?" The two men staggered out of the fog, their Sidhe armor smeared and filthy, both looking dazed and utterly spent.

"We're all right," Spike said. He was doing a slow search for his cigarettes, and when he finally found them Gunn silently held out his hand. Spike snorted and tossed him the pack - lit up and then handed over his lighter. Gunn lit his own smoke and handed everything back, then tiredly wiped his hand back over his head.

"Are _you_ all right?" Tara asked, eyeing their muddy, bloody selves and looking like she was itching to start wiping faces and checking bones.

"I think we're fine, actually," Wesley sounded surprised. He looked down at the intricately wrought breastplate he wore and gave it a tap over his heart. "I think it's all down to these that we fared so well."

"Think they'll let us keep these? Don't even have a dent - not one scratch."

"They may," Wesley said, his hands starting to work on the buckles and straps. Gunn stuck the cigarette in the corner of his mouth and helped him, and after a few moments Wesley eased the breastplate off with a sigh of relief, rolling his shoulders and neck.

"My turn," Gunn said, and they worked in silence to get Gunn's armor off as well. When the pieces were propped next to Xander's sword Gunn drew Wesley into his arms and held him for a long moment, big hands smoothing Wesley's back and Wesley murmuring something into Gunn's shoulder, eyes closed. They both drew apart reluctantly, and Gunn wiped at his face and looked around.

"Where's Angel? Sun'll be up soon, he needs to get undercover - you too, Spike."

"Yeah," Spike said, eyes closed, cigarette going to ash between his fingers. Xander sighed and slowly started levering himself to his feet, every muscle screaming. During the fight he'd felt - like a superhero. Now he felt a hundred years old.

_*Hundred's not so old,*,_ Spike thought, opening one eye and peering at him, and Xander grinned and held out his hand.

"Maybe not for _you_. I want a hot bath and my bed. For a week."

"Amen to that," Gunn said. Spike groaned and took Xander's hand, letting himself be pulled up, and the wolves climbed slowly to their feet as well. Tara stood up and slung her backpack onto her shoulders, the only one of them with any energy at all.

"I guess we need to find Angel then," she said, looking around in a kind of despair, and they all gazed at the rubble and demon corpses around them. "What - what's going to happen to all _this?_ I mean - all this can't just be - l-left here."

"Maybe they'll burn up when the sun comes up?" Gunn asked hopefully.

"Some will." Spike looked around - wrinkled his nose. "There's gonna be a God's awful stink, otherwise."

"Oh, dear God, I can't even imagine," Wesley said, his face wrinkled in distaste, and they began to slowly walk down the street, circling chunks of the Wolfram and Hart building, looking for Angel. The sky was getting lighter, a pale greenish-grey, and the fog was thinning and wisping away as dawn approached. Xander was getting more and more nervous.

_*We've got to get you inside soon, damnit. Why the hell isn't he **here**?*_

_*Maybe something grabbed him and dragged him off,*_ Spike thought, poking at what looked like half of a safe and pulling something out - dropping it hastily and wiping his hand on his jeans.

_*This is **no** place for looting, Spike!*_

_*No harm in looking.*_

_*There might be! Just - don't touch anything.*_ Spike grinned tiredly at him and they plodded on.

"Hey! He's over h-here!" Tara yelled, and Xander and Spike both changed direction, heading towards Tara's voice. Tara was kneeling behind the crushed body of a car, Angel's head cradled on her knee. The vampire was covered in mud and blood and what looked like a strip of dragon-hide. His sword was broken, wedged into the car's hood. "Is he okay? He's not waking up." Tara was trying to clean the mud off Angel's face with her fingers and had only succeeded in smearing it around more.

"Oh, he probably just needs a little blood. I could use a pint or two, myself," Spike said, dropping down next to them and reaching for Angel. His hand gripped Angel's shoulder and then he froze, staring.

"Spike? What is it?" Tara whispered. Spike snatched his hand off Angel, his gaze never leaving Angel's face. "Spike?"

_*What is it? What's the matter?*_

_*God, I don't - I don't...know, I -*_

"You find Angel?" Gunn and Wesley came around the back of the car as well and Wesley made a small noise of shock, hurrying forward.

"Is he all right?"

"No, there's - something...Spike, what _is_ it." Spike looked up at Xander, eyes wide, shaking his head.

"Glinda, feel his neck, feel - right there." Spike pointed at the pulse-point on Angel's throat and Tara gave him a confused look but obediently put her fingers on Angel's jugular. She sat for a long moment and then she looked up at them, and there were tears in her eyes.

"Tara?"

"He has a pulse! Xander, he - he has a _heartbeat_."

" _What?_ " Wesley pushed forward, and Gunn did, and Spike climbed to his feet and edged away, bumping into Xander and putting his arms around him.

_*He - really has a heartbeat?*_

_*He was **warm**.... He - I think he's alive.*_ Spike was staring at Angel - at Gunn and Wesley, who were feeling for a pulse and obviously finding it. The feeling in the link from Spike were a mixture of anger and awe and happiness and Xander hugged him.

_*You okay?*_

_*Me? I'm...if he's...not a vamp anymore it's...it's weird. Angelus...was always there. Can't be **gone**....*_

_*Angel's alive?*_ Oz and Derio jogged into view from up the street, half-wolf to better help find Angel and shifting back to human, now.

_*He's - human. He's got a heartbeat,*_ Spike thought.

"Wow." Oz peered down at the - man - lying in Tara's lap, and they all looked around in startlement as hoof-beats rang behind them. It was Scavenger, trotting towards them, Cordelia and Dawn and Connor on his back.

"Xander! Are you okay? Is everybody okay? Spike?" Dawn looked like she was about to leap right off Scavenger's back and the pooka stopped and dipped his shoulder down, holding stock-still as Dawn started to slither to the ground. Spike leaped forward and helped her then held out his hand for Cordelia, bracing her as she slid off awkwardly, holding a squirming Connor tightly.

"Uncle Spike! We were running in the clouds! We were higher than the trees!" Connor broke free of Cordelia's hold and ran towards the others - stumbled to a halt as he saw Angel. "Why is Da sleeping on the road? Uncle Wes, why is Da sleeping in the road?"

"Oh, no, oh no, God -" Cordelia went white, stumbling forward, and Spike got an arm around her.

"Don't get in a panic now, Princess. He's, he's not - I mean, he's -"

"Cordelia -" Wesley said, standing up and holding out his hand. "Angel is - he's...alive."

"Of course he's, alive, he's not - _dust_ -" Cordelia went down on her knees next to Angel and Wesley crouched down next to her, his hand on her shoulder. Dawn snagged Connor and held him and he struggled, scowling.

"Want down, Aunt Dawn!"

"Cordelia...." Wesley smiled suddenly - a huge smile, his eyes gleaming through the muck and mud on his face, his teeth startlingly white. "Angel has a heartbeat. I think - I think it's _Shanshu_."

Cordelia just stared at him - jumped a little when Angel groaned and started to move. "Angel? Oh, God - Angel? Are you all right?" Angel's eyes fluttered, open and shut and finally open, and he peered dazedly upwards for a moment before his gaze settled on Cordelia.

"Cordy? What - why are you here? It's - too dangerous -"

"The fight's over, man. We won!" Gunn was grinning now, too, and he pulled Wesley to his feet and kissed him, hard. "We _won!_ We. Fucking. _**Won**!_ "

"We did? God - my head hurts." Angel sat up slowly, Tara and Cordelia helping him. He smiled briefly at Tara and then hugged Cordelia. "We really won?"

"Yeah, beat 'em into the ground. Literally. Look around you, Angel," Spike said and Angel did, taking in the smoking ruins and the mess of squashed cars and demon bits.

"Wow. Yeah, I guess we did. Where are - the Sidhe?"

"Buggered off as soon as the fight was done and good riddance."

Angel nodded - grimaced. "You know...I don't feel...right."

"How _do_ you feel?" Wesley asked, his face alight with curiosity, and Angel clambered slowly to his feet, frowning. Tara stood up as well, retrieving her backpack and moving to stand next to Oz and Derio, smiling when the werewolves linked their arms around her.

"I - dunno, I'm kind of...dizzy? And...my chest hurts. Did I get hit?" Angel passed a shaking hand over his chest - looked down at himself in startlement. "What the -"

"Angel, Angel, it's _Shanshu_. You're _alive_ , Angel, you're alive!" Cordelia couldn't hold back - she flung herself on Angel, crying, hugging him, and Angel automatically held her, rubbing her back. He looked at Wesley, his face alight with fear and hope and shock.

"Wes? Is - what's going on?"

"It's true, Angel! You have a heartbeat - you're alive." Wesley's grin was enormous and so was Gunn's and Angel just stared and then slowly started to grin back. Beside Xander, Connor flailed harder and Dawn put him down. He ran straight to his parents, clinging to Angel's thigh and Angel gently loosened Cordelia's hold and bent down to pick him up.

"Da, you okay? Da - why were you sleeping in the road? Why is mommy crying? Da, I rode a horse here, did you see the horse? He could talk!" Angel hugged Connor to him, speechless, then looked around. Scavenger stepped out of the shadows of an awning, ragged clothes and ruby-glowing eyes, and made a small bow.

"Consider your new...state a parting gift from the Powers. They have found another to fight for them. Your visions will come no more," Scavenger added, nodding to Cordelia, and she gasped, covering her mouth with her hand. "The defeat of Wolfram and Hart will leave a void, and there will be many factions fighting for control of the city. Best for you all to move on."

"No. We don't abandon our post," Wesley said, and Gunn was nodding. Angel glanced at them and nodded as well.

"We don't need visions - or a mandate from the Powers - to fight. There are too many innocents at risk to just - leave."

Scavenger shrugged - looked over at Xander and Spike. "I'll bear you one last time - take you home. Are you ready?"

"Yeah, I - yeah, we are," Xander said, suddenly feeling like he couldn't keep on his feet for one minute longer.

Angel passed Connor over to Cordelia and approached them. "I don’t - know what to say. I can't believe you did this for me. For us. Thank you."

"Thank the Niblet - she's the one insisted," Spike said, frowning a little, and Angel looked over at Dawn, who grinned.

"Whoever made it happen - I'm grateful. I… _God_. This is - weird. It's so loud." Angel stood for a moment with his hand to his chest, then he looked at Spike. "I guess - I'm not a vampire anymore.... Guess that's the last I'll be seeing of you."

Spike eyed him, then stepped forward and let the demon emerge - took a long sniff at Angel's neck. "I dunno, Angelus - you don't smell half bad. Might come see you some night." Spike was grinning, and then Angel was, and suddenly they were hugging, a hard embrace that last for long minutes. Then Spike backed off and slipped his arm around Xander's waist again, and Angel retreated to Cordelia's side.

"Come and visit sometime," Xander said. "You've never seen our house. You're welcome anytime. All of you - you're welcome anytime."

"Thank you, Xander," Wesley said - walked over and held out his hand and shook, one after the other, with Xander and Spike, Oz and Derio. Tara he hugged, kissing her cheek, and he and Dawn both stood and looked at each other for a moment until Dawn shrugged and hugged the ex-Watcher. Wesley retreated to Gunn's side and Gunn took his hand.

"We can always use an extra hand in the demon-fighting business," he said.

"We're done with that for a while," Xander said, feeling Spike's arm tighten around him. "And right now - I just want to go home."

"Me too," Tara said, plucking at her still-wet shirt, and Scavenger, who'd faded back while they talked, emerged again, horse-shape. A low wicker, and another horse trotted out of the shadows - shadows that were uncomfortably sharp-edged as the sun climbed past the horizon and began to creep through the canyons of the city.

_*Definitely time to get out of here,*_ Xander thought, as he and Spike climbed one last time onto Scavenger's back and Gunn helped Tara and Dawn up onto the other pooka - Reed, Xander was sure. Oz and Derio changed, making Connor squeal with delight, and Xander raised his hand.

"Be careful, you guys. And Angel, remember: sunblock is your friend." He grinned, and Angel laughed, snatching Cordelia and Connor to him and hugging them, spinning them around with a shout of pure joy. 

"Bye! We'll call you!" Dawn yelled, and then Reed began to run, and Scavenger did, pounding over the street and then over air - over nothing. Moving into pearl-shot blackness as L.A. disappeared behind them.

_*God, going home. Not gonna be saving the world again anytime soon.*_ Spike tightened his arms around Xander and Xander leaned back into him, closing his eye to the stinging wind.

_*Nope. Just gonna - be together. Travel. Maybe we'll go see Buffy and Giles. And Willow. I miss her.*_

_*I know. Whenever you like, love. I can find something to do while you two braid hair.*_

_*Oh stop. You've braided plenty of hair in your time.*_ Spike growled in Xander's ear and nipped at his throat, and Scavenger bucked under them.

_*Go home, stay home - not worry about anything for a while. Love you so much, vampire-mine...love you more than you know.*_

_*Do you, now? Can't be as much as I love you.*_

_*Maybe not. Always, Spike. Forever and always.*_

_*Forever for sure, my love, my own. No getting away from me now.*_

_*Would never even try,*_ Xander thought, and Spike's arms were a shield around him - were holding him and holding him up and keeping him safe - _keeping_ him. Below was the Sound, and then the Duwamish, and _*home home*_ and their little house had never looked so beautiful - so welcoming. The mist that the pookas seemed to drag with them shielded Spike from the rising sun and they slithered down and ran for the door, the pookas wheeling and _gone_ , faster than thought. Once inside they simply stared at one another while the wolves changed and Spike peeled off his filthy coat. Then they were grabbing on - holding tight - a crush of flesh and bone and _*love you, love you*_

_*brother home love*_

_*pack pack*_

_*This is my life,*_ Xander thought. _*This is my life and it is...better than I ever thought it could be.*_

_*Happy then, love?*_ Spike asked, kissing him, and Xander looked at his family. At Tara and Dawn like the sisters he'd secretly wished for; at Derio and Oz who were brothers, lovers - the truest of friends. And at Spike, whose tired face and sparkling eyes made his heart pound in sheer joy - in a rush of giddy happiness that seemed to make the whole room spin.

"Happiest I've ever been, Spike. Happiest I've _ever_ been."

"That's all right, then," Spike said, and kissed him.

 

 

_________________________  
_It's Only a Paper Moon_ \- Billy Rose  
_Moon River_ \- Lyrics by Johnny Mercer, music by Henry Mancini  
_The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald_ \- Gordon Lightfoot  
_Welcome to the Jungle_ \- Guns 'n' Roses


End file.
